The chancellor stared in awe, composed himself, and turned to Scott. “Your craft is remarkable. I’m eager to hear you explain how it works. Now, if you would join us....” He swung his arm toward the odd-shaped machine. “It’s impractical for us to walk to our destination.”
Scott studied the craft through narrowed eyes. “And exactly what is our destination?”
“The Refectory of the Ekklesia,” Linghtaz answered.
“A Refectory I understand, but what is the Ekklesia?”
“It’s the place where the assembly of the representatives of the Niobian community meet. And now, shall we go?”
The five took their seats in the vehicle, and a hinged canopy pivoted from the rear and over them. A wide ribbon of green lay before the vehicle.
“I’ve never seen a vehicle like this before.” Scott eyed the simple interior of the machine, which had no controls. “What technology does it use? Does it move on an air cushion?”
“Hardly, Captain. Twig-like rods underneath propel the multicrus, or glide-car, as we call it, much like the cilia of living cells, only far larger. They move us along the organic roadway you see before us. The biological filaments in the underside ripple in a wavelike motion. It’s very efficient.” Linghtaz presented his upturned palms and said, “To the Refectory of the Ekklesia.”
Except for the voice commands from Linghtaz, they traveled in astonishing silence as the car skimmed on top of smooth vegetation for nearly half an hour through a forest of ferns and trees. In places, the feathery branches of the cycads arched over the roadway, partially blocking the sky.
The forest thinned as the glide-car climbed onto a steep hill and through a cloud layer. Seconds later the sky cleared, and they came onto a sunny upland. In the distance sat an imposing edifice constructed in a series of terraces. Gray-green, the structure stood out from the face of the white cliff behind. From high above, a narrow waterfall dropped from the top of the cliff behind the uppermost terrace. Dark green vines grew down from the towering walls, as if the building were weeping leafy tears.
The sight drew Scott’s breath away. He recovered from the grandeur when the glide-car slid under a high portico supported on columns constructed of polished, marble-like rock.
They followed the Chancellor out of the vehicle. He turned and said, “I must leave you now, but you and your lieutenant will be well taken care of. Orujov and Gotow will escort you to your quarters, where you may rest and refresh yourself.” He straightened for a moment and, after a brief dip of his head, walked away.
Thane Gotow, the taller of the two Niobians, motioned ahead and led their visitors down a wide hall. He stopped by an outline of a portal on the wall. When he stepped toward it, a part of the wall faded, leaving an opening.
Once inside, he turned to Scott. “I trust you will find all you need for your comfort. In a few hours, the chancellor will return to answer any further questions you may have. For now, I’ll leave you to settle in and recreate.”
Scott stepped in front of the escort to prevent him from walking away. “And if I have a question in the meantime?”
“Simply walk out the portal. Either I or another will come to assist you.” The escort’s face remained expressionless.
The room beckoned with a pleasant glow emanating from the ceiling, which bathed the room in gentle, champagne-tinged white. Tapestries graced walls with images of mountains and waterfalls, much like the ones outside the Refectory. A polished trim outlined the doorway. Whenever Scott moved toward it, it sensed his presence and melted away, only to reappear after he passed through. He stepped through it several times, marveling at the technology.
In a flash, he remembered the base interceiver. It was nearly time to contact Marie and Klaas.
Within minutes, he had the device powered up. It passed all self-checks, but remained stubbornly silent.
Scott went through the door. A Niobian he hadn’t met arrived within seconds. “I must speak to my lieutenant. Please see that he comes to my room as soon as possible.”
“Certainly, Captain.” The man turned and, with long, deliberate steps, strode away.
Minutes later, Anton arrived. “They said you wanted to see me.” He glanced about the room. “Same setup as mine.”
Scott slumped. “I asked for you because the damn interceiver powers up but doesn’t work. Take a look and see if you can do anything with it.”
Anton pressed some recessed icons and studied the readout on the small screen. “It works fine, but some sort of interference prevents the signal from getting through.” His face flushed, and he wiped several drops of perspiration from his brow. “If we can’t tell Klaas where and when to pick us up, we’re stranded.”
Earth
~~~
Admiral Camus lifted his short frame from the chair in his private office and ambled to the outer reception area. He returned with Commander Joe Schwartz in tow, and plopped back into his chair.
His eyes scanned his data screen for a moment. “Sit down, Schwartz. I want to discuss the Hyades expedition.”
Schwartz glanced from his boss to the proffered seat and back. “Is anything wrong? Does the Admiral have some specific concern?”
Camus crossed his hands on his desk and leaned toward his subordinate. “Update me on the Pegasus mission.”
Schwartz hesitated and glanced around the room, as if composing his thoughts. “Well, sir, we had picket ships on routine patrol beyond the Oort cloud when Pegasus transitioned to warp-space on her way to the anomaly some months ago. The pickets reported that Pegasus departed with a normal transition.”
Camus leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. “Yes, I remember now. Did the picket send their report though ECCO Central?”
“No, sir, they operate in stealth. For security reasons they have standing orders to contact me directly via our own, secret Defense Command entangled comm. No one outside Defense Command knows we have secret entangled message capability. Our ships send no messages via normal ECCO Central except for some routine traffic, as a ruse to make Central think we communicate though them.”
Camus allowed himself a moment of satisfaction. His preparations had paid off. “Did Pegasus report seeing our picket?”
Schwartz placed his folded hands in his lap. “We have no indication of that, sir. Since it’s impossible to intercept entangled messages, we rely on an undercover agent we placed in ECCO Central some years ago. The agent covertly reads all messages sent and received through ECCO central. If they contain any significant information, he passes a copy to us. Pegasus sent no messages indicating they noticed our picket. Our agent has been very discrete, and as far as we know, Exploration Command is completely unaware of our activities.”
Camus squirmed in his chair. These secret activities were risky. If Admiral Delmar ever became aware of them there’d be hell to pay. “Nice work, Commander. If any Exploration Command vessel reports they have come across extraterrestrial intelligence, let me know about it immediately.”
Schwartz lifted his head and grinned at the compliment. “Admiral, does your statement include encounters with humans? For example, the descendants of the Themis crew would technically be extraterrestrial, but I’d think they would be grateful to be rescued by us.”
Camus stabbed his finger on the table. “Commander, hear me carefully. Drumond may have encountered beings claiming to be descendants of Themis’ crew, but they could just as easily be impostors. We do not presume they are who they say they are or that they are our friends. We presume nothing. Do you understand? The day we let our guard down may well be the day a hostile extraterrestrial force comes swarming into our system.”
Schwartz’s face flushed at the rebuke. “When Pegasus reports back we’ll know if we have a problem, will we not?”
“Perhaps, but don’t presume Admiral Delmar shares all Pegasus message traffic with us. In any case, follow up with our agent and make sure he continues his clandestine scans of all ECCO Central traffic. I must know
if Drumond reports any hint of a threat. Diligence, Commander, diligence—that’s our duty.”
Camus recomposed himself. He sat back, interlaced his fingers and covered his stomach. “Now, Commander, what weapons do our pickets carry?”
“High energy photon cannons.” Schwartz ticked off the list. “And a compliment of kinetic weapons.”
Camus went silent. Damn pickets don’t stand a chance against a heavy ship with serious weapons. He stood up and paced the few steps to his bay window. “Come over here, Schwartz.” He pointed to the gleaming towers of the city in the distance, teeming with people going about their business.
Schwartz gazed out over the spires and aerial vehicles buzzing through the wide arteries of commerce.
Camus resumed his harangue. “All the humans on Earth depend on us for protection, as well as those living on our settlements, from Luna to outer moons of Jove. Tens of billions have entrusted their safety and security to us. We take our satisfaction from the knowledge that they go about their lives unconcerned and unaware of the danger of an attack by extraterrestrials. If aliens engage us in battle, we must prevail to save the human race.”
“Sir.” Schwartz paused and took a deep breath. “If I may, we’ve explored space for over three hundred years and haven’t encountered any alien intelligence, much less any hostile alien intelligence.”
“Yes, I know the argument. The New SETI reports are only statistical probabilities, but with every new report, the odds of such an encounter increase. You may take a lax attitude toward them, but my responsibilities do not allow me that luxury. The stakes are immeasurable—the very continuation of our species. Our survival imperative dictates our readyness to defend ourselves at a moments notice.”
“Your conservative approach, Admiral, will be most appreciated when the inevitable encounter with hostile aliens does occur,” Schwartz said in an obvious attempt to curry favor.
Camus brushed off the comment with a huff. “A couple more items, Schwartz. Recheck the digital archives for any information on the Themis, and search the files for any copies of the old paper documents as well.”
“But you told Admiral Delmar the Themis is only a legend.”
“Delmar’s far too crafty to send an expedition on a ghost chase. He’s up to something. Get me everything you can find about that ship. When I first learned Delmar had sent Pegasus on a mission to the Hyades Cluster, I suspected he had a covert reason. And Schwartz, one more thing....”
“Admiral?”
“I want you to prepare an order for my signature. In the order, specify that the Cruiser Aurora is to break off from her training mission and make her way to the nearest depot, where she will take on full ordinance along with provisions and fuel.” He paused a moment to compose the rest of the order in his mind. “She will then proceed, without delay and in stealth, to the anomaly in the Hyades Cluster. Upon arrival she is to loiter near the anomaly until further orders.”
Schwartz stood wide-eyed for a moment. “My God, a fully armed, heavy Cruiser going into deep space. History in the making,” he gasped. “In all my eighteen years of service, this is the closest I’ve come to seeing a combat situation. I do envy the captain of the Aurora, sir.”
“Do you?” Camus cast a wry smile and a dismissive wave. “And now, Commander, prepare that order. Then go over to operations. Find out when Aurora can be on her new station, and let me know.”
Schwartz saluted respectfully, did an about face and strode out.
Alone in his office, Camus wrestled with his concerns. When the first message from Pegasus came in, his thoughts centered on the worst case scenarios. The crew might have been killed to the last man, or have become prisoners under the control of hostile aliens, in which case they could be used as decoys to lure the Panhelion fleet into an ambush. With Aurora on station in the Hyades Cluster, he could relax, secure in the knowledge that he had the military might to counter a possible threat.
No, he’d never allow his forces to be caught unprepared, and if either the Themis’ descendants or Pegasus ended up in the crossfire of an attack, they would, of necessity, be acceptable casualties in the defense of the Panhelion and the humanity it represented.
He settled deep into his chair and touched an icon on his screen space, and the document he wanted appeared. For the third time in as many days, he re-read the latest monthly report from the Extraterrestrial Search Group. The report gave the most recent New SETI analysis.
He read the familiar line—no intelligent alien signals detected by any Panhelion station or ship—and skipped to the part of the report containing the updated calculations of probable hostile alien contact.
As in the previous months, the probability of an encounter with alien life had grown progressively greater. It stood well over ninety-eight percent. If the trend continued, Panhelion ships would encounter hostile aliens, and soon. Resigned to his vigil, he sat back and reflected on a promise he made to himself one terrible night long ago. I’ll never again be caught unprepared.
His hand trembled as the memories of that night forty-nine years ago flooded his thoughts.
His mother’s panicked voice called out, “Andre, get your sister. We have to leave now.”
Eleven years old, he lived with his family in the Capital city of the Mars Settlement, where his father held the title of First Assistant to the Governor General. His mother’s urgent demand came after she and a patroller had a hushed conversation at the door.
“Assistant Governor Camus isn’t home yet. We can’t leave without him.”
The patroller put his hand on his mother’s shoulder. “We can’t wait for him, Mrs. Camus. I’ll call in and have another patrollbus pick him up, but you’re in danger. The rebellion has broken out, and the Voortrekker separatists are rampaging throughout the habidomes.”
Outside his home, several men wearing Voortrekker armbands had gathered, shouting, “Go back to Earth. Mars for the Vootrekker.” They jostled with the handful of Patrollers holding them at bay.
The patroller unholstered his ‘stinger’. “Damn Vootrekkers think they’re better than the rest of us just because their ancestors arrived first.” He fired at a man blocking their way.
The Voortrekker moaned and collapsed.
“Into the bus,” the patroller ordered. “He’ll have one helluva headache when he comes to.”
His mother pushed Andre and his sister into a patrol bus containing half a dozen other frightened women and children, all of whom stared wide-eyed as they crowded into the last empty seats.
He thought that on the way to the spaceport, the bus had dodged several angry crowds, he thought, but Camus’ recollections of the trip to the orbiting transporter ship, and the two-day voyage to Earth, were now only a blur.
Damn them! The bastards had captured his father, and killed him when the patrollers attempted a rescue.
When he arrived on Earth, Camus joined the Panhelion military. His superiors had appreciated his service, recognizing it with promotion after promotion.
How he’d savored his revenge five years later. A bittersweet euphoria swept over him as he recalled how, as a strike cruiser captain, he ruthlessly put down a second rebellion on Mars.
As a reward, he now wore the coveted epaulets of an Admiral. His harsh battle tactics had brought him authority, and with authority came power. The more power a man had, the less vulnerable he became.
Andre Camus feared being vulnerable, and so he schemed for more power.
Niobe
~~~
Scott stepped out through the portal, and Thane Gotow arrived moment later. “I must see the chancellor,” he explained with an urgent tone. “How soon can I talk to him?”
The escort hesitated, his expression impassive. “I’ll find him and ask.” He took a step back and whispered into a tiny transceiver on his collar.
He stepped forward again. “The chancellor will see you now. Follow me, please.”
Outside, low on the horizon, a sliver of the Niobia
n sun cast long shadows that reached across the terrace and gave the evening air a slight chill. Scott and Gotow walked past a low wall bordering a large pool. The water reflected a shimmering image of the white bluff.
Gotow stopped by a small fountain several meters away from Linghtaz, who stood talking with another Niobian. “Please wait here,” the escort said and stepped away. “The chancellor will come to you as soon as he’s finished.”
Scott saw the two in animated discussion, but the splashing of the nearby fountain prevented him from overhearing the conversation. After a moment, the discussion ended. The man made a polite bow to the chancellor and departed.
The chancellor cast a glance toward Scott and strolled over to him. “Captain, I’m sorry for the delay, but a matter of state required my attention.”
“I hope I didn’t interrupt anything serious.” Scott dipped his head in respect.
Linghtaz shook his head as if to assure him. “No, an issue of routine scheduling, but I’m told you have a matter of some urgency.”
“I’m anxious to get in touch with my ship.” He rushed his words. “We attempted contact, but my communications officer tells me our signal is blocked.”
“Don’t trouble yourself. I’ll have it corrected immediately.” Linghtaz wore a transceiver device on the collar of his tunic as well. He whispered a few words into it and lifted his head. “Would you care to walk with me? The air is refreshing, and I take these quiet moments to calm and relax my mood.”
“Is communications interference normal here in the Refectory?”
The chancellor halted and faced Scott. “Our systems cover a wide range of frequencies. Now that we know your needs, we can clear the spectrum you need. My technical staff just informed me that they detected your signal, and the frequencies you need are now clear. You may contact your ship unhindered.” Linghtaz eyed the darkening sky. “Our mealtime nears. If you and your lieutenant would accept an invitation to join me and a friend, we would delight in the opportunity to hear about Earth.”
Shroud of Eden (Panhelion Chronicles Book 1) Page 10
