Consortium of Planets: Alien Test

by Wells, Jack

  Martle almost jumped out of his skin. Thank God Forge was alive and Visen wasn’t around so he could talk to Colonel Forge first.

  “Sierra Charlie, this is Sierra Romeo. It’s damn good to hear your voice! Save your briefing for after you get back and have a hot shower. The first thing I want you to do after you touch down is report directly to me. I have extraordinary, life-changing information that concerns you. Do you copy? Over.”

  Dean was bewildered by the urgency in the voice. It sounded like General Martel on a very bad day.

  “Sierra Romeo, copy last transmission.”

  Dean didn’t like using names over the radio, but he had to be sure who he was talking to. Sierra Romeo could have been anyone in the Sit’ Room.

  “Is this General Martel? Over.”

  “Sierra Charlie that is correct. You have your orders, over.”

  “Sierra Romeo, I look forward to hearing all about it. Sierra Charlie out.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Consortia’s violet sun blazed ten degrees above the horizon when Alont’s linker blared to life and woke him up. He climbed out of bed still groggy and glanced around the large room. Only the oversized bed, with its luxurious white linen, stood out – he had no idea where he was. Even before that thought set in, he knew from the sun’s brightness that it was way too late in the day for him to still be sleeping. When his linker came to life again, he grabbed the little device just to shut it up.

  “Yes?” he said anxiously as he looked out the large picture windows at the magnificent view of the lake outside. Lakes on Consortia weren’t unusual, but there weren’t many. The few that his planet did have were normally smaller than the one he found himself staring at.

  “Alont, it is Reggiald.” Now he remembered. The University doctor put me up in a safe house of sorts, just outside Consortia City. “A message probe arrived this morning from Wystl. You were correct – she was in danger.”

  “Was in danger?” Alont asked hopefully.

  “That’s correct, she had to destroy her ship and kill all your Warrior friends, including Aydr’n, to survive. With the help of the Humans, she will be waiting on Earth for her rescue. Oh, and the Humans passed their test. She thinks they are a little rough around the edges, but with some work, they should fit in well with the other planets.”

  They are all dead? Alont wasn’t sure how to react to what the doctor had just told him. He knew that most of the Warriors were simply following their captain and had no idea that he was up to anarchy. They were taught from day one to follow their superiors’ orders, but that meant their superiors had to be trustworthy. Until now, his captain had earned that trust.

  “Alont, are you listening?”

  “Yes, huh, well…she would know more about the Humans than I would. I do know that they can be resourceful when they get trapped.”

  Reggiald wasn’t sure what Alont was talking about. He sounded distant to the doctor and probably wasn’t reacting well to hearing about his colleagues’ deaths. It was time to take the information to the Senate. “Right, that’s understandable, Alont. You stay at the house and I’ll get this information to the Senate and the commandant of the Warrior Caste.”

  Alont turned off the device, sat down on the soft bed, and gazed out the window at the distant horizon. He had betrayed his Warriors, his friends. But they were criminals, terrorists, and they were not following lawful orders. Focusing intently on the deep purple lake again, Alont hoped that its calm waters would somehow bring him peace.

  The lake was the only surface water for a thousand kilometers in any direction. The surrounding vegetation looked like a green garden in the otherwise orange-and-red desert. Thousands of cycles ago, Alont was told that the entire plant was green and lush, but they began to break the water down to make hydrogen power. They never dreamed that they would use up such an abundant resource, and in a few generations, almost all the surface water was gone.

  The University Searchers had found a species that knew how to reverse the damage, but the vast quantities of materials that were necessary to change Consortia back to its original glory had to come from other worlds. It was slow going, but Alont had seen good progress when he arrived on his shuttle from Earth and the air did seem sweeter to his lungs. Earth had many resources, including water that the C.O.P. could take advantage of. Was that why they passed the Test?

  Hunched over his computer, Dev’kall was finally able to work on tasks that he had assigned himself. It wouldn’t look good if everyone was ready while he was scurrying around playing catch-up. Outside his window, a long, black Warrior transport pulled up to the curb. The five nebula flags flying above its roof told him it was Ban’yr. As if on cue, he stepped out of the Warrior vehicle in a full dress uniform: purple trimmed in gold. He appeared ready for the next Senate Ball.

  Dev’kall almost tripped trying to get to the door. “Commandant, are you crazy? If anyone sees you…”

  Ban’yr stepped in and cut him off. “We have a problem. The University had one of their Searchers off testing a species somewhere and the captain assigned to her decided to mutiny. He was recruited by a Warrior for Change the night before he left on his mission, cycles ago. The captain sent a message back with a courier to the Warrior who recruited him. The courier made it to the spaceport, and then all hell broke loose when he got tired of waiting in the processing line. When I went to review the port’s security record to see what happened, an initial copy had already been picked up by a University scientist.”

  “Commandant, have you reviewed the record yet?”

  “Yes, the security cameras show Fe’ton and two body guards pulling one of my Warriors, named Alont out of a pile of debris. He was the captain’s courier. The four of them talked quickly and then headed out of the receiving building and toward the transport that Alont arrived on. They were in the transport briefly. Then Alont stepped out and the transport launched with Fe’ton and his guards still on board. The transport’s trajectory indicates that it went into a black hole.”

  Ban’yr took a breath and Dev’kall jumped in. “By the stars of Trinity, he killed Fe’ton! If that scientist has the message and the port record…we need to move up our time table! We don’t even know what your captain said in his message.”

  Ban’yr nodded and cautiously agreed. “Yes, I’ll alert my Chn-maa contact that it has begun.”

  “I’ll post-note all the leaders and try to find out what the scientist knows,” Dev’kall added.

  “Don’t bother contacting him.” Ban’yr’s eyes and nose flared as he spoke. “He already called me to set up a meeting about it. I’ll know what he knows soon enough, and then you’ll know, too.”

  Dev’kall wondered why he took so long to mention that he was meeting with the scientist, but he decided to revisit that question later.

  “Commandant, when will your Chn-maa fleet be ready to show to the Senate?”

  “The fleet will be in Chn-maa hands next rotation.”

  Dev’kall understood that the Chn-maa weren’t actually going to have the fleet. Ban’yr was speaking figuratively, but it still scared Dev’kall. He needed reassurance. “Are you sure that it is wise to put them on two of our four quadrant fleets? That would put Chn-maa on five thousand ships. Wouldn’t part of one fleet be a great enough threat to convince the Senate?”

  “Dev’kall, you still don’t think that I can control them. And no, part of a fleet might not be enough. We need to scare the green slime off those groutin.”

  “It’s just so easy to believe the propaganda against the Chn-maa that we’ve heard since we were fledglings, Ban’yr. We both know that if the prasers hadn’t worked, the outcome at Trinity would have been completely different.”

  Ban’yr felt his patience with Dev’kall’s concerns growing thin but kept his voice steady. “What is your point, Consul?”

  “The Chn-maa may be at the bottom of our society and uneducated, but the party line is wrong – they are not stupid! What if they have a way to tak
e control of your warships and know how to operate them? Isn’t that why the security at your star stations is so strong? So that no one can get the universal entry code to your ships from the manufacturer and gain unauthorized access?”

  “Dev’kall, they would need much more than an access code to take a warship! There will only be one Chn-maa on each ship among a few thousand Warriors. We only need one Chn-maa to fool the ship’s crew sensors into telling the Senate that the entire crew is Chn-maa.”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to keep questioning your plan. It’s them I don’t trust, not you.”

  “Consul, I understand your concern, but I’ve taken every precaution. You have nothing to worry about. They may not be stupid, but they are uneducated and that makes them dependent on what we tell them. Now, Dev’kall, I must get to my next appointment. I’ll let you know what the scientist has to say.”

  Washington D.C.:

  Dean and Wystl sat with General Martel around his desk in a small office adjacent to the Sit Room’s main auditorium. Tired and drained, Dean finished his report and gratefully accepted the cup of coffee from Martle. He hoped the caffeine would give him a much needed energy boost.

  Wystl had taken on the slightly altered but still impressive appearance of Dean’s favorite supermodel. When Martle offered her a cup, she wrinkled her perfectly straight nose and turned down the smelly, dark brown liquid.

  “Colonel, that’s an amazing story. And…Ms. Wystl?”

  “Wystl is fine, General.” Her now red, very lush, human lips parted into a dazzling smile. “I’ve never been one for pomp and circumstance. The only title I have is Searcher."

  Martle knew that she was an alien and glad that she was on their side, especially since she could shape shift so well. “I do have to complement our new friend’s choice of Human.” Then he grew serious and switched his focus to Dean. “Well, Colonel, like I said, I have vital information to share with you. Please listen to this.”

  The general turned on his tape of the chancellor’s earlier admission to wanting to kill Dean. As the colonel listened, he realized that he didn’t need his coffee for energy. Renewed vigor swelled deep inside as the venomous words poured out of the chancellor’s mouth. Not only had he tried to kill Dean, but he had also set up and succeeded in the death of many of Dean’s partners over the years. The most painful loss was Gretchen. As the recording ended, Martle and Wystl watched Dean sit frozen in thought, waiting for his response. Wystl now understood why Dean sounded strange when he had said the word “boss” before. On some level, he must have known that the chancellor was after him.

  Dean’s thoughts spun out of control as twenty years of pain and loss spilled across his mind. His heart raced as the fragile defenses that he had been using to get through each day began to collapse. Those defenses weren’t necessary anymore. He knew who was responsible and what he had to do: right the wrong that had been committed. Still, he didn’t understand where the general was coming from.

  After a long moment, Dean’s angry voice came out ice cold. “Why did you play this for me? You know that I will kill him for what he did to my partners. General, you are sworn to defend him against all enemies, foreign and domestic. Now you’ve created his worst nightmare!”

  “Colonel, I have many reasons to let you know the truth about him. Reasons that range from saving the world to saving me. You need to know that the man is a menace to us all.”

  Dean’s mind raced. He didn’t immediately respond. Martle could see Dean’s struggle and softened his tone. “Colonel Forge, it’s a fine line, but I never actually swore allegiance to him. The last thing I swore to defend was the Constitution of the United States of America and that’s exactly what I am doing.” Then he asked the most important question of his forty years in the military. “Have you heard of the Network, Colonel?”

  “Yes, sir, they’re a bunch of terrorists that want to bring down the world order, Visen and the Corps included.”

  “Well, that’s not exactly true. They are fine with world order and the Corps. What they don’t like is the amount of power that Visen wields.”

  Dean snorted unconvinced under his breath as the general continued.

  “We all need to answer to someone. Uncontrolled power is a slippery slope for anyone, especially someone like Visen. The Network’s goal is not only to maintain the united world government that Visen has created, but also to take control out of his hands and make it more of a consensus.”

  As Martle talked, Wystl became curious. “General, will you not have a single person that can negotiate for Earth?”

  “Wystl, at this point, Visen is still in charge and would no doubt negotiate for Earth, but there are a great many of us that would prefer to appoint a negotiator. A congress would represent and approve tentative agreements for the entire globe.”

  Wystl listened and nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, it would seem that both of our worlds are in turmoil.”

  Dean needed to confirm what he was hearing. “Sir, you sound like you are part of the Network.”

  “I’m not part of it. I head the Network. I want you to join it and help us bring down Visen.”

  Dean wasn’t listening. He was only waiting for the general to finish speaking. He had already made up his mind to go rogue and get Visen as soon as he could. “General, didn’t you hear me? I don’t intend to bring him down – I’m going to kill him. I’m done being told what to do by someone else. I’m not joining anything. In fact, I’m resigning. Besides, who’s to say you don’t just want the power for yourself?”

  Martle could see Forge’s determination but wasn’t going to give up. Too much was at stake. He needed to win him over and maintain control until a definitive plan for running the world could be devised. “Colonel, you need to put your personal feelings on hold until the time is right. For one thing, Visen has an assassin on her way over here from Europe who is planning to kill me. But it’s strange; the chancellor doesn’t act like he knows that she’s after me. It’s been business as usual, and he isn’t that good an actor. The bottom line is that you need to get to her and try to turn her to our side before she gets to me. With you and her working together, planning Visen’s demise will be a lot simpler.”

  Unfortunately, the general made sense. Dean had never gone on a mission without a plan and a mistake might let Visen get away. Killing Visen would be the ultimate mission. The chancellor had a great deal of security. Success would require the perfect plan and a lot of luck. “General, you can count on me to do whatever it takes to get him. The more pain I can inflict on him, the better. So you want me to intercept the assassin?”

  “Yes, but there is more to her than meets the eye.”

  “More than killing you, General?”

  “Colonel, Visen had her parents killed when she was a little girl, and I don’t think she knows it. When you catch up to her, you must try to convince her of what he did to her family and use that information to turn her against him. She is formidable and, like I said, would make an important addition to the Network. I have video footage I want you to watch of her attacking my European assets on two different occasions. For now, Colonel, you must act like everything is fine when you’re with Visen, but watch your back anyway.”

  “Sir, watching my back is why I’m still alive.”

  Consortia:

  Constant traffic moved methodically up and down the wide boulevard while everything baked under the planet’s large lavender sun. The noisy bustle filled Reggiald’s ears as he sat patiently at a table for two on the sidewalk outside a local cantina. Across two more rows of tables, he noticed how dry the wispy trees were that lined the street. We really could use more rain.

  He wasn’t the only one who noticed as the commandant of the Warrior Caste approached. Reggiald hadn’t met him in person but had seen numerous pictures in the news, so he knew exactly what the C.O.P.s’ top military commander looked like. Surprisingly, he wasn’t very tall for a Warrior. He still appeared imposing, though, dressed in p
urple and gold body armor. Lines of experience were etched deeply in the greenish-gray skin around his black eyes.

  “Commandant, it’s good to finally meet you. I appreciate your responding on such short notice. As I said, it appears that the Chn-maa terrorism extends to the Warrior Caste, so we have a bigger problem than we might have thought.”

  Ban’yr smiled to himself. His anti-Chn-maa propaganda was clearly working – even the University was buying it. He quickly sized up the University professor and decided that he could use him before the Senate to lend more credibility to the Chn-maa threat.

  “Doctor, it is difficult to believe that Warriors, sworn to duty, would get involved in such clandestine activity.” Looking for the micro pouch, he added, “What proof do you have of their involvement?”

  Reggiald looked around conspiratorially, leaned toward the commandant, and began to speak so that only Bany’r could hear. “Sir, I have a micro pouch that one of your captains tried to send to a terrorist contact here on Consortia. Also, there is a spaceport record of Fe’ton and two of his bodyguards trying to get that micro pouch from one of your Warriors, who was acting as the captain’s courier. That same Warrior is an eyewitness to back up what both records show.”

  Yes, Ban’yr thought to himself as the doctor oozed with conviction. He comes across so believable and sincere...perfect to stand with me in front of the Senate and convince them of the threat. The commandant had found his pawn – someone from the University who the Senate wouldn’t ignore.

  Reggiald paused briefly and waited for the commandant's reaction, but all he received was a slow nod and intense scrutiny. He knows there’s more. Reggiald braced himself as he added more. “There’s one other problem.”

  Ban’yr raised his heavy eyebrows in anticipation but said nothing.

  “One of our Searchers is stranded on the planet that the courier came back from and we need a ship to get her home.”

  “Oh, yes. How did that project turn out, Doctor?”