Solbidyum Wars Saga 9: At What Price

Home > Other > Solbidyum Wars Saga 9: At What Price > Page 30
Solbidyum Wars Saga 9: At What Price Page 30

by Dale Musser


  “Yes, if we can find a way to use it,” I replied. “All it does now is give us a way to shut down their gates, but we could do that before simply by shooting out a node. We’ve not improved on that much with what we’ve learned here. Nevertheless, you all did a great job.

  “A’Lappe, did you see anything that might give us a clue as to where they’re building these gates?” I asked.

  “No. This thing is a mixed mess of salvaged materials from all over the galaxy. Most of it was probably collected from construction material waste yards where flawed and damaged pieces are discarded. That they could even find compatible parts just for this unit is amazing in itself. I doubt any two power hubs look exactly alike.”

  “Alright. Well, thank you for your efforts, everyone,” I said.

  Back in my office I slumped down in my chair and brooded. I realized I was due for another treatment, which didn’t help my mood any. Where was the answer? What must I do to defeat Ming? I rested on my elbow on my desk and leaned my head into the palm of my hand. I was tired… so very tired. I just wished I could take a day… just one entire day without needing to deal with some problem… just one day where I could totally relax without thinking about solving some crisis that involved thousands… or millions… or billions of human lives.

  “Admiral, are you okay?”

  “Hm?” I looked up to see Marranalis standing before my desk. I hadn’t realized it, but I had begun to drift off. “Sorry, Marranalis, I didn’t hear you come in,” I replied.

  “Sir, I’ve been here for more than a minute. You seemed out of it. I spoke to you several times but you didn’t acknowledge me. It was as though you were in some sort of trance.”

  “That’s not good. I’m due for a treatment today. Maybe I should go early; that is, if you can handle things until tomorrow.”

  “If nothing major comes up, I think I can handle it.”

  I contacted A’Lappe quickly. He was surprised to hear from me so soon after our earlier discussion.

  “What can I do for you, Tibby?” he asked.

  “If you’re available, I’d like to start my treatment early.”

  “I can break free from what I’m doing, if you want to meet me in the med unit in about fifteen minutes.”

  “Great. Fifteen minutes it is,” I replied. As soon as I disconnected with A’Lappe, I called Kala to let her know.

  “Tib, I’m at the estate wrapping up some details. Go ahead and start your treatment. I should be there to help you before A’Lappe is finished,” she said.

  Normally, I could expect these treatments to be filled with pain and searing heat from beginning to end. The agony seemed endless even after the treatment was over. This one wasn’t any different, when it came to the heat and pain, but for the first time ever, I blacked out. But even while unconscious I seemed to have an awareness of pain and misery. I briefly dreamed I was in a spacecraft of some sort and was slowly being drawn into a spiraling vortex that a voice in my head called the entrance of hell. Spiraling down before me was a long line of people, each one holding the hand of the person in front of them and behind them. I spoke out loud and asked who these people were. A voice replied, saying they were all the lives lost because I hadn’t been able to save them – the lives of those at Glomar Rosa, Agraious, Frandee, Dandcay and hundreds of other places. I raced past the line of people, descending faster and faster toward the front. Eventually, I saw Admiral Regeny holding the hands of two other Federation officers. Further down the line were Stonbersa, Sokaia, Tanden, Captain Maxette and Lunnie and Reidecor. As I passed Lunnie and Reidecor, they transformed from the original Lunnie and Reidecor into my son and daughter.

  “Tibby, wake up! Can you hear me, Tibby? You need to wake up!” I heard A’Lappe’s voice calling as if from a distance.

  “Open your eyes, Tib!” This time it was Kala’s voice.

  With the greatest of effort, I tried to pry my eyes open. It seemed way brighter in the room than it should be. I blinked.

  “Tib, wake up, right now!” said Kala as she took hold of my shoulders and shook me. With each shake, it felt like a gigantic bell clapper inside my head was slamming into a hollow spaced behind my eyes.

  “He’s opening his eyes,” said Kala. “He’s becoming a bit more alert now.”

  “Good,” A’Lappe said.

  “Tibby, can you hear me?” asked A’Lappe.

  “Mm-fr-meebref...,” I muttered and wondered what I was trying to say.

  “Can you understand me?” A'Lappe asked. I realized my eyes were rolling about in my head as I tried to answer. “Yefff!” I licked my lips with my tongue and tried again. This time I managed, “Yes!”

  “Tibby, you had a reaction to the medication. Cantolla and I bumped up the dosage hoping it would last longer and I fear we got the mixture too strong. You should be alright in a few hours, but I’d like you to stay here a little longer than usual so I can monitor your vital signs.”

  “The way I feel right now I don’t think I could make it out of the room anyway,” I said weakly.

  “Is there anything I can get you, Tib?” Kala asked.

  “Some ice chips for my hot, dry mouth would be nice,” I answered.

  “Okay. I’ll be right back,” she said as she walked away.

  As soon as Kala was out of the room, A’Lappe said, “Tibby, I didn’t want to say this in front of Kala, but the treatments have been damaging your liver. I knew, of course, that the treatments were taxing your organs, but until recently you were compensating and your body’s cells were restoring well in the days between the treatments. You also know that your condition precludes you from being a candidate for organ cloning. So what I’m saying, Tibby, is our options are quite limited at this point. Cantolla and I have discussed the situation and we were hoping today’s more aggressive treatment will allow more healing to take place before the next session. Our other hope is to begin using a combination of stem cells and nano-biotic therapy. The nano-bots would remove damaged tissue and the stem cells would promote new cell growth in its place. In theory it should work, but it’s never been done before and we aren’t sure what will happen.”

  I closed my eyes in frustration. Everything was going wrong at the worst possible time. “How long will it be before I’ll be functional again?”

  Just as I finished my question, Kala returned with the ice. She placed a piece of it in my mouth with my last word.

  “I’m hoping that the results of this treatment will be similar to those of the past and that tomorrow morning you will wake feeling renewed the way you normally do after a treatment. But it was an aggressive treatment. Don’t be discouraged if it takes a bit longer to bounce back.”

  I sucked on the ice Kala had given me. The cold sensation of the ice soothed the searing heat that still pumped through my veins. I could almost imagine steam coming out of my ears and mouth as the ice melted.

  “Tibby, I think you should stay here the rest of the night. I’ll stay with you. You still look too weak to make it back to our suite.”

  “I agree,” I said as I reached out, knowing that Kala would take my hand.

  “If you like, I can give you a mild sedative that will put you to sleep until morning,” said A’Lappe. “It will allow you a much better night’s rest.”

  I glanced at Kala for her opinion. She replied with a stressed smile and a nod.

  “Alright. Give it to me,” I said. I watched as A’Lappe fiddled with the I.V. Then everything went black.

  “Wake up, Tib. It’s time for you to get up,” Kala’s voice prompted me. “You need to shower and eat and then maybe shower again before you head back to the GLOMAR ROSA.”

  “Uh… I just went to sl-e-e-e-p,” I moaned.

  I heard Kala chuckle. “Tib, you’ve been asleep nearly nine hours.”

  “That can’t be! I just closed my eyes seconds ago,” I said with my eyes still shut.

  “Come on, Tib, get up. We’ll go back to our suite and you can shower while I get yo
u something wonderful to eat,” Kala said as she tugged on me and helped me to my feet. “How are you feeling?”

  “Like I was knocked down by a full-grown fubalo bull,” I mumbled. “I usually feel pretty good the morning after my treatments. This time I feel totally beat up.”

  “A’Lappe said you might take longer to recover this time around, because the treatment mixture was stronger.”

  “I don’t think I can take another session like that. It was by far the worst. Where is A’Lappe?” I asked as I looked about the room.

  “He left hours ago. He said he had important work going on in the lab, and that since you were recovering alright, he’d leave you in my hands.”

  “That was nice of him,” I said, offering her a grin. “Did you get any sleep?”

  “Actually, I did. That chair folds down into a sleeper lounge.” She pointed to one of the chairs across the room. “I napped several times during the night. Once you’ve had a good meal and you’re on your way back to the GLOMAR ROSA, I’ll get some more sleep,” she yawned.

  After we arrived at our suite, I showered three times to remove the chemical smell. By the time I ended my third shower, I was feeling much better. I donned a fresh uniform from the replicator in the dressing area and looked at myself in the mirror. I noticed the bags under my eyes and that my hair was mostly white now. Other than that, I still looked fit for my age. My age? I thought about it a moment. I was in my 50s now. By Old Earth standards, I was in decent shape – or at least appeared so – but by Federation standards, I actually didn’t look so great. People in the Federation aged slower because of their advanced diet and health management methods. The rejection of my synthetic nerves was, of course, the reason, but there was nothing I could do about it but keep fighting like I did every other fight. I took one last glance, shrugged my shoulders, and headed to the dining area where Kala waited with a fantastic arrangement of food and juices.

  As I sat down, I suddenly realized just how hungry I was. I tried to think back to when and what I ate last, but I couldn’t recall.

  “By the stars, Tib. Slow down. You’re eating like this is the first meal you’ve ever had,” said Kala.

  “Sorry,” I said. “I don’t know if I ate yesterday or not. All I know is I’m famished.”

  “Well, it won’t hurt you to eat a little slower. Oh my,” she exclaimed. “I sound like did when I would fuss at the twins when they were young.”

  I swallowed the last bites of food and washed it down with juice and foccee while I debated having seconds, but I knew I needed to get to the GLOMAR ROSA, so I reluctantly got up from the table.

  “Thanks for everything Kala. I don’t know what I would do without you,” I said. I knew immediately what she would say in reply.

  “You’re welcome… and you better never try to find out either.”

  I gave her a quick kiss and turned to leave when she grabbed me by the arm and pulled me back for a second longer kiss.

  “Take care of yourself today,” she ordered. Pools of moisture glistened in the corners of her eyes, even though she had a smile on her face. I wondered for a moment whether A’Lappe had told her some bad news about me while I slept or whether it was something else. I gave her one last peck on the cheek and then turned and headed out the door.

  I arrived in the GLOMAR ROSA’s War Room to a flurry of activity.

  “What’s happening, Admiral?” I asked Marranalis.

  Our scouts have just located a newly constructed stellar gate in the Gunmar System near Daprise-3. The gate must have been erected in the past four to six hours, because it wasn’t there when they scanned the area earlier. I’ve ordered two cloaked patrol ships with equipped with Stellar Cantolla Gate components to gear up and stage nearby so they can slip through when it opens. A hundred fighters have also been deployed into the area just outside sensor range and several hundred more are staged as secondary responders, if needed, so we’ll be prepared to destroy the Brotherhood ships and their canister payloads after they pass through the gates and before they reach their target.”

  “Very good,” I said. “However, I think it’s important to let at least one or two of their ships escape. We don’t want it to look too suspicious to Ming. As it is, he’ll probably order a preliminary sweep of the area to look for any Federation ships that may be close enough to slip through the open gate. Make sure their fleet has moved away from the gate and has begun to execute their attack before we open fire on them, so it isn’t obvious that we knew in advance where their gate was located.”

  “Sir, how long do you think it will be before they open the gate?” asked Marranalis.

  “A’Lappe says it takes several hours for their power units to build up enough charge to open and maintain a brief window of operation. I’m only guessing, but I would say anywhere from eight to twenty hours from the time it was established. So if they set up the gate a maximum of six hours ago, they could mobilize through the gate as soon as an hour or two from now. How many cloaked ships do we have in place?”

  “Twenty-one at the moment and about eighty more are on the way. Most of them should arrive within the hour.”

  “So all we need to do is sit back and wait,” I said.

  “Yes, sir,” replied Marranalis.

  “Anything else happening?”

  “Admiral Wabussie said he has some new information for you about Ming. Other than that, I can update you on other statistics and casualties, but it suffices to say that the death toll from the pathogen is nearing thirty billion.”

  My mind nearly went numb at the number, but there was nothing I could do about it.

  “I’ll be in my office on a call to Admiral Wabussie. Let me know the moment anything starts to happen at Daprise-3.

  By the stars, I thought as I entered my office. Thirty billion lives snuffed out in just days. I could only imagine the height of panic among the citizens of the Federation. When I lived on Earth, its population was just a little more than seven billion and Marranalis was telling me that more than four times that many people had perished at the hands of the Brotherhood in little more than a blink. No place was safe from Ming’s threats. I sat down at my desk and initiated a call to Wabussie.

  “I’ve been waiting for your call, Admiral,” he said as his image appeared on the screen. “I’ve gained new intelligence about Ming and his illness.”

  “What are you hearing?” I asked eagerly.

  “Rumors are spreading throughout the Brotherhood organization of Ming’s deteriorating condition. As he gets worse he is descending deeper into madness. He apparently realizes his condition is fatal and, as you suspected, he wants to conquer the entire Federation before he dies, whatever that means in his twisted mind. He has no care as to whether anyone survives, just so long as he dies knowing he has dominated and defeated the entire Federation. Apparently, he believes it is his destiny. Those nearest to him say he rambles on and on about how he will be known the greatest Ming of all, and that his dynasty will be remembered forever as the greatest.”

  “Wait, are you telling me that Ming believes he is of the bloodline of the ancient Ming Dynasty of Earth?”

  “I wasn’t familiar with this ancient historical Ming Dynasty, but this is what Ming is saying about himself. We had no idea what he was rambling about until we checked the historical Earth databases brought by the colonists you rescued and it’s all there in the historical texts of ancient China. Apparently Ming had the same goal in mind when he was warring on Earth; to be the greatest conqueror and ruler in all human history. But here’s the really interesting part. Even though Ming claims to be a part of the ancient Ming Dynasty, Earth records indicate that Ming couldn’t possibly share even a small fraction of the original Ming Dynasty bloodline. Though it’s not clear exactly where Ming was born, it wasn’t in China and he is in no way related to the ancient Ming family.”

  “Interesting. Do you know who his parents were?” I asked, as I tried to figure out how I might best be able to use this
information.

  “The Earth records indicate that his mother was actually Indonesian. His father was Chinese with some Tibetan heritage, but his lineage is fully documented and shows nothing even remotely related to Ming in any way. It is said that his mother was actually a prostitute and it is believed his father was a soldier. There is no indication that his mother and father ever lived together and it’s doubtful that Ming ever knew his father. He was raised in Indonesia until he was six, when his mother took him to China. Details of their immigration are unknown. They apparently arrived during a time when China had shut itself off from immigrants, but somehow his mother managed it and was never caught. Ming’s proper name is unknown. His mother simply called him Wǒ de xiǎomíng, which means my little Ming. Everyone else called him Xiàshuǐdào lǎoshǔ, which means Sewer Rat. There are even police report records where he is documented with this name.

  “When China went to war with the rest of the world, Ming’s mother was killed in a missile attack. Ming survived; and even though he was only fifteen years old, he was pressed into China's military service. He registered with the name of Míng er tóng, which means Child of Ming; and while there was a note in his records that questioned the validity of his name, it was never investigated further, as the military didn’t care who he was as long as he could fight.

  “Ming’s military record indicates that he was a ruthless fighter right from the start. He showed no mercy to his enemies and relished in every defeat, great or small. He rose quickly through the ranks, seemingly passing his more qualified fellow soldiers in arms by mysterious means. There is indirect evidence that he did so using all kinds of nefarious methods, blackmail not being foulest of them. It was also not uncommon for Ming’s direct superiors and other commanding officers who stood in his way to die of mysterious causes as he climbed the ranks. Before long he had become one of the three top-ranking officers in the Chinese Armed Forces. His last commanding officer had a habit of calling him Wéixiǎo Míng or Tiny Ming. Ming loathed the diminutive reference and protested, but his objection met only with laughter. The records are unclear as to a time period for what happened to Ming’s superior thereafter, but he just suddenly disappeared and no trace was ever found of him. Ming was a suspect, but no evidence could be found connecting him to the disappearance and Ming was promoted to take his place. The rest of the story you know.”

 

‹ Prev