CassaStorm

by Alex J. Cavanaugh

He’d only experienced a Tgren plane once, but that was enough. Bassan had been very young at the time, but the sensation of leaving the ground frightened him. In contrast, he experienced a tug of curiosity whenever the Cosbolts flew overhead. Their movement was more graceful than a Tgren craft. On occasion, he rode in a Cassan shuttle, but that first flight always clouded his thoughts.

  As he choked down the last root, Bassan heard his father mention the Vindicarn. Aware of the significance of that race, he turned his attention to his parents’ conversation.

  “Following our declaration of war, both the Narcon and Vindicarn took up position on the edge of Cassan space,” his father said, his fork clanging against his plate. “The Nacinta has relocated to the outer reaches of the Tgren solar system. They report no activity though.”

  “Did that news settle Prefect Enteller’s nerves?” Bassan’s mother said.

  His father shook his head, causing his dark locks to drop over his forehead. “Hardly. He was more concerned there wasn’t a flagship in orbit over Tgren.”

  Those words startled Bassan. No flagship orbiting Tgren? Who would protect them?

  Bassan’s father lifted a forkful of food, his gaze shifting to his son. “We have six squadrons of Cosbolts on this base. We aren’t defenseless.”

  His hands sliding to his lap, Bassan scrunched down in his seat. He hadn’t meant for anyone to hear his thoughts.

  “Why don’t you clear your setting and go finish your studies?” his mother suggested.

  Hiding his relief, Bassan nodded and grabbed his plate and glass. Sliding out of his chair, he pushed it under the table with his knee. He shot his father a guilty look, aware he was supposed to use his hands, but neither of his parents appeared to notice his transgression. Navigating around the central counter, he placed his dishes in the cleaning unit and retreated to his room.

  The moment the door slid into place, Bassan retrieved a small canister from his desk drawer. Several bright red candies greeted him and he popped two of the sticky lumps into his mouth. The sweet taste of sugar and fruit began to ooze across his tongue. Bassan closed his eyes.

  Stupid herren roots, he thought, returning the canister to the back of the drawer.

  He spent the remainder of the evening on his studies. During the past few weeks, his class had analyzed some of the known facts regarding the alien ship buried in the mountains surrounding Ktren. While space flight didn’t intrigue him, the complexity of the aliens and their ship fascinated Bassan. Twenty years of research had revealed much about the craft, although gaps existed due to the inability of the Cassan scientists to translate the language in its entirety. Bassan often spent more time speculating on the missing information than actually studying his lessons, and tonight was no different.

  Deep in thought, he almost missed his mother’s announcement that he ought to prepare for bed. Bassan suppressed a groan.

  But I’m not sleepy, he thought.

  Shaking his head, Bassan responded before his mother had to repeat her request. He rolled off his bed and retreated to the bathroom. At least his studies wouldn’t distract him anymore. If he didn’t fall asleep right away, his imagination could continue to roam.

  He said goodnight to his parents before returning to his room. His mother sent a loving thought, telling him to sleep well. To Bassan’s surprise, his father followed him and held the covers while Bassan squirmed into position. He smiled in appreciation. His father rarely tucked him into bed.

  “I understand you’re visiting the alien ship tomorrow,” his father said, pressing the blanket under Bassan’s chin.

  The question sparked excitement in Bassan. He’d waited for this trip for weeks.

  “Yes, sir,” he said, unable to contain his grin. “Our class is going right after the midday meal. We get to see the control center and the engine room. And the pod room!”

  His father took a seat on the edge of the bed. “You’re visiting Section Five?”

  “We get to see the containment pods. Did you know there are thousands of them?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “They say the rows are almost endless.”

  “The far end of the room is dark, so it does appear that way.”

  Bassan felt a tug of envy. “You’ve seen them?”

  A smile pulled at the corners of his father’s mouth. “Of course I’ve seen them. I visit the ship at least once a week. And Officer Mevine keeps me abreast of new discoveries.”

  “Has mother seen the pod room?”

  “She has.”

  Feeling deflated, Bassan’s hands dropped to his sides. He was always the last one in their family to do anything.

  His father smiled and rested a hand on Bassan’s chest. “And tomorrow, you will see it. Then you can tell me what you thought of all those rows of containers. I think you’ll be impressed by the sight.”

  Those words restored Bassan’s enthusiasm. “I can’t wait. Can we talk about it during the evening meal tomorrow?”

  “Yes we can.”

  Excited at the prospect of joining the conversation rather than just listening, Bassan smiled so big his cheeks hurt. He shared so few things with his father. The difference in their interests left little common ground. His father’s brows came together and Bassan wondered if he’d heard that thought.

  A familiar presence entered his mind, its touch affectionate but tentative. Surprised by the connection, Bassan held very still. He clung to his father’s thoughts, enjoying the moment. His father did not connect often outside of mental communication. Bassan treasured those rare occurrences even if it meant his thoughts were open for viewing.

  “Now,” his father said, “you are to obey your instructors tomorrow, and Officer Mevine as well. Understood?”

  “Yes, sir,” said Bassan, feeling his father’s presence vanish from his mind. It left an empty void, much like a hole in the sand. He wished those moments weren’t so brief.

  “And I’ll want a full report tomorrow night.”

  “Yes, sir! I’ll tell you everything. I hope you’re not late again.”

  “I’ll do my best to be home on time.”

  Patting Bassan’s chest once more, his father rose from the bed. He commanded the room’s lights to dim as he departed. The door slid into place, plunging the room into darkness. Bassan burrowed farther under the covers and forced his body to relax.

  Tomorrow he was going to see the alien ship! His class would wander down the tunnels bathed in eerie, blue light. He’d finally get to view the control room and the giant plasma ball that dominated its center. The true size of the engine room would no longer be a secret. Most important, he would at last see the rows of pods that that had carried his ancestors to Tgren. The videos they’d viewed in class were not enough. Bassan wanted to experience it with all of his senses.

  Bassan recalled his father’s previous warnings regarding class trips. At least he didn’t tell me not to touch anything this time, he thought, closing his eyes.

  Chapter Two

  “This was one of the last rooms in Section Five we were able to access.”

  Officer Mevine’s usual soft voice cracked as he projected it over the shuffling of feet. “However, this containment area and corresponding control room has provided us with the greatest opportunity to learn from the race that sent intelligent life to Tgren.”

  Standing on his tiptoes, Bassan strained to get a better look at the pods. He bumped the boy to his right and received a hard elbow in the shoulder. Losing his balance, he grasped the shoulder of the classmate ahead of him. The boy turned around, his dark curls all but obscuring his eyes. Shaking his head, the boy grasped the front of Bassan’s shirt.

  Get up here before you hurt yourself, the boy thought, yanking Bassan forward.

  Propelled with great force to the front, Bassan’s feet barely had time to catch up with his body. He regained his composure and gasped as he caught sight of the pod room. The capsules emitted a vibrant, green glow, symbolic of the life they once car
ried. Bassan swore he could see the lights pulsating like a heartbeat. The numerous rows stretched far into the darkness.

  There are thousands, he thought, shielding so only the boy who’d pulled him to the front could hear.

  My father said there are fifty rows of a hundred and each one carried a person.

  Tearing his gaze from the glow of the pods, Bassan glanced at his friend. Drent’s eyebrows were raised and he offered a brief nod. Upon hearing Officer Mevine clear his throat, both boys turned their attention to the senior science officer.

  “When this ship launched from its point of origin, each capsule carried an embryo,” said Officer Mevine, his voice no longer strained. “The capsules were filled with a liquid that provided oxygen and nutrition, and they were monitored by computers located in the control room.

  “From our calculations, the people inside the capsules were almost adults when the ship arrived on Tgren. They were released and exited the ship through a supply room located at the far end.”

  Officer Mevine pointed toward a corner of the room that lay shrouded in darkness. Bassan let his gaze wander across the room. He could almost see the thousands of confused Tgrens staggering on shaky legs to the beckoning exit. How strange the desert landscape of this world must’ve appeared to eyes that had only viewed the darkness of sleep.

  “Are there any questions?” said Officer Mevine.

  “Sir, what was in the supply room?” someone asked.

  Officer Mevine straightened his thin frame, clasping his hands behind his back. “According to the records we’ve deciphered, the supply room contained basic clothing, food, water, and simple tools required for survival on this planet.”

  That makes sense, Bassan thought.

  “Officer Mevine, how did they know how to use those items?” a girl to his right asked. “Wouldn’t they have been like a newborn baby? Helpless?”

  Bassan’s position placed him within close proximity of Officer Mevine, and he sensed a surge of excitement from Drent’s father. The science officer smiled and lifted his chin even higher.

  “Every person’s brain was connected to a computer that fed them information over the duration of the trip. They were taught behavior, motor skills, language, and the basics they needed to function, survive, and procreate.”

  A ripple of humor arose in those closest to Bassan. He ignored their childish thoughts. If the occupants of the pods were fed information, how did the data come to them? Were visuals involved?

  “Did they dream?”

  Bassan realized he’d spoken aloud. Clenching his fists at his sides, he berated himself for his impulsive words. A wave of ridicule from his classmates caused Bassan to shield his thoughts. Why had he asked such a stupid question?

  Officer Mevine smiled and stepped closer. “They probably did dream, Bassan. That would’ve been the most logical means for inserting information into the brain.”

  Buoyed by the answer, Bassan smiled in triumph. Drent’s father had just validated his idea in front of everyone.

  You have a good idea now and then, Drent thought.

  Bassan nudged his friend. I have lots of good ideas.

  They were permitted ten more minutes to ask questions before their instructor announced it was time to visit the engine room. Disappointment tugged at Bassan’s chest. After viewing the pods, he had no desire to look at the ship’s propulsion system. He wanted to know more about the pods and the computers that controlled the capsules. If there really was a way to implant dreams into one’s mind…

  I wish we could stay, he thought.

  Drent had turned to follow the others to the exit, but he paused. Casting a suspicious look at Bassan, Drent’s eyes narrowed. Bassan offered his most pleading expression, hoping to win over his friend and buy a little more time in the presence of the pods.

  You really want to stay? Drent thought.

  A tingle of excitement ran down Bassan’s spine. Yes!

  His friend stared at Bassan, his scrutiny indicating he was mulling over the idea. Bassan caught his breath, afraid Drent would brush off his request as nothing more than childish. He’d always tried to keep up with Drent, aware of the two years separating them in age. Bassan didn’t want to appear immature or unworthy of his friend’s time. Few shared their mixed heritage of Cassan and Tgren. Without Drent, Bassan’s list of friends would be very short.

  Drent lifted his chin and turned toward the senior science officer. “Father? Bassan would really like to see more of the pod room. It’s his latest obsession. Can we stay here with you?”

  Officer Mevine’s gaze shifted to the doorway. Transferring weight from one foot to the other, the science officer rubbed his fingers on his thighs in an uneven rhythm. Bassan held his breath as Officer Mevine’s attention returned to the boys. No words were exchanged, but he sensed a private conversation between father and son.

  Please let him say yes, he thought.

  Drent’s father frowned and Bassan prepared for disappointment. Officer Mevine’s head jerked toward the doorway and he snapped his fingers. “Officer Tarcon, a word with you?”

  Bassan grinned at Drent. I don’t know what you told him, but it worked!

  I just used the magic words.

  What words?

  The commander’s son.

  Bassan’s stomach sank. Why did you have to say that? You know I don’t like to use my father’s rank.

  Well, you should learn to use it more often! Drent crossed his arms, his scowl penetrating the hair hanging across his face. We’ll always be the odd ones out. We have to use every advantage we can get.

  His friend’s accusation caused Bassan to take a step backward. He didn’t have long to ponder Drent’s words, though. Officer Mevine rejoined them, bringing a hand down on each boy’s shoulder.

  “Your instructor has given permission for you to remain here under my supervision. Officer Tarcon will retrieve you when your class finishes with the engine room.”

  “Thank you, sir,” said Bassan.

  “Well, I appreciate your enthusiasm,” said Officer Mevine, patting his shoulder. “This has been one of our greatest discoveries. We’ve learned so much from the computers that controlled these capsules.”

  “Sir, may I see them? The computers I mean?”

  Drent’s father nodded. “I don’t see why not. This way.”

  Bassan and Drent followed Officer Mevine out of the room. Pausing in the doorway, Bassan scanned the rows of pods one last time. Thousands of people, all lost in a dream…

  Come on! thought Drent.

  Pumping his shorter legs, Bassan caught up with his friend. Officer Mevine turned right and vanished. Bassan expected another room but discovered an ascending hallway. The slope was gentle but he still had to hustle to keep up with Drent. They reached a landing and Officer Mevine paused before continuing up the next ramp.

  “I’m coming, sir,” Bassan said, determined to keep up. “Sir, do you really think our ancestors dreamed while in the pods?”

  “Dreams and more. Their brains processed information and increased in knowledge during the trip to Tgren.”

  Blue rings of light guided them up the ramp toward a brighter light and Bassan’s excitement grew. None of his classmates could claim they’d seen the pod’s computer system!

  They reached the next level and the tunnel turned again before opening into a large room. Bassan noticed several open doorways to his left and eyed them with curiosity. He almost ran into Drent and had to regain his footing as he sidestepped his friend. Now facing the right side of the room, Bassan discovered a more interesting view.

  “This is the master control room for the capsules below,” said Officer Mevine, gesturing toward a line of alien consoles.

  The hair on Bassan’s arms rose. The numerous, crescent-shaped consoles lined a glass wall, their glowing lights bathing the long room in a glittering array of colors. Large screens flashed in rapid succession, their data changing in the blink of an eye. Beyond the consoles lay the most i
ncredible view. Bassan gasped as he realized the computer room overlooked the endless rows of pods.

  “Each console controls a different aspect,” Officer Mevine said, moving to the nearest computer. “Life support, physical growth, mental input—everything was programmed and controlled from this very room.”

  Eager to hear and see more, Bassan moved to the science officer’s side. He glanced down the row of consoles, noting other officers present in the room. Their wary glances indicated recognition of the commander’s son. Feeling uneasy, Bassan’s attention shifted to the control panel in front of him.

  “This one was programmed to monitor and control basic life support,” said Drent’s father. His fingers touched a corner of the screen. The images ceased to fly by in rapid succession. Bassan peered at the alien calculations now displayed.

  “This displayed the oxygen count in the subject’s blood stream.”

  Bassan listened with interest as Officer Mevine ran through the various systems. The images on the screen made no sense. He certainly couldn’t read the alien language or understand the information. He wanted to learn one day though.

  Still focused on the science officer’s words, Bassan scanned the console. The crescent screen was angled for easy viewing, although he had to stretch on his toes to see the screen. It was the framework that caught his attention. It appeared to be crystal-like stone rather than metal. Bassan lifted his hand to touch it and then snapped his arms behind his back. He knew better than to touch anything, especially with Officer Mevine present.

  When Drent’s father reached for the far side of the screen, Bassan stepped aside. His view no longer blocked by the console, he found himself staring down at the glowing pods. The rows of rounded capsules, their green lights pulsating with energy, mesmerized him. What was it like the day all of those pods opened? Thousands of people, caught for years in a dream, all gaining consciousness in one moment. Every dream had dissolved as those people experienced real life for the very first time…

  “Bassan?”

  The sound of his name snapped Bassan back to reality. He looked up and discovered Officer Mevine staring at him.