Path of Ranger: Volume 1

by RJ

  One of the guards addressed the guest.

  “Ranger JB, we were instructed to walk you to the administration. Follow us.”

  “You got it, man,” the mutant replied, scanning the hangar.

  “We don’t allow weapons here,” the soldier nodded at his phaser.

  “Even me?”

  JB behaved arrogantly. He was a legend among rangers, so special treatment with lots of grants wasn’t a rare thing for him. But not in this case, as it appeared. The soldiers didn’t like rangers much in general, and famous ones especially. The guards insisted on disarming the guest.

  “Okay, take it,” JB handed him the phaser. “The knife stays,” he said and passed the soldier. “Let’s move it, the clock’s ticking.”

  Despite the arrogance of the ranger, the soldiers gave him that. Although their disintegrators remained in their hands, on alert. The senior officer commanded them to unlock the door to the center. They kept on.

  JB was analyzing his visit in general. The first impression was quite positive: reliable security, proper location of the station. There were hidden sensors and armed turrets everywhere. His sixth sense could smell them.

  In a few minutes, the escort led JB to the presence chamber. The guard reported over the radio of their arrival. A few more men entered the room. The first one was another soldier, the Chief of Security. Other two looked like scientists, one namiamifican, and one human. The last one was JB’s old comrade, Mark Gibson.

  There was no wonder why Gibson worked along with namiamificans, most human scientist organizations did. They were an extremely intelligent race that contributed a lot to the GU’s science development. Namiamificans had telepathic skills as a method of communication among each other. But since there was no mouth or any kind of voice mechanism in that kind’s anatomy, the communication with humans was conducted through external techs. JB noticed that compact speaker on the alien’s chest.

  “JB! Happy to see you, man!” Mark cheered up in greetings.

  He firmly shook the ranger’s hand and watched him carefully, being amazed how JB changed over five years. It wasn’t just the joy of seeing an old friend in the Doc’s eyes, but also an interest. The mutant was one of his biggest projects after all.

  “Yo, Doc! How are you? Doing fine, I see…”

  “Man, you have no idea what we’ve…” Doc stopped abruptly. “Oh, where are my manners? I haven’t introduced my colleagues.” He put his palm on the namiamifican’s narrow shoulder. “This is Dr. Galuazhee, a specialist in the fields of cybernetics and bioengineering. And Colonel Johnson, Head of Security.”

  “We’ve heard a lot about you, JB,” a neutral toned voice sounded from the alien’s speaker.

  “Really? Those are rumors, mostly,” the ranger joked. “So, what were you saying, Doc?”

  “Yes, right. We’ve been studying samples from the biopsy of yours over these years. How are you feeling?”

  “Fine, I guess…”

  “What about the appetite?”

  “Reduced after a year or so. Now it’s somewhat higher than average, I’d say.”

  “Do you sleep?”

  “A little. Few hours in several days.”

  “That’s excellent. Your organism is stabilizing,” Mark pronounced thoughtfully. “Okay, you rest now. We’ll start doing tests tomorrow.”

  JB found himself a bit confused hearing those words.

  “Doc, I’m here on a mission, you know. I say we get down to business right away.”

  “I see; you haven’t changed a bit…” Gibson looked at his comrade with a fresh view once again to recognize that old guy he knew. “If you don’t mind, I still would like to do some tests anyway.”

  “Whatever you say, Doc. You’re the man. Your dudes, by the way, may unload the stuff I’ve brought for you.”

  A day passed in tests and studying. JB went through a whole set of various diagnostic operations. It wasn’t part of his mission, but since Gibson was so eager to feed his interest, the mutant didn’t mind.

  At the end of the day, Mark and Galuazhee stayed in a separate room to discuss some matters. Meanwhile, JB hacked into the local mainframe to study the station’s layout. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Gibson, but more as a matter of habit developed over the years. An agent always had to be aware of his position as fully as it was possible.

  As it turned out, that station was way larger than a regular terraforming setup. And the personnel count was much bigger.

  What are you working on?

  The discussion was over and the scientists returned back to their patients. Gibson’s serious expression seemed a bad sign to JB. They were still arguing about something on the way. The namiamifican used all kinds of small illustrative projections coming out of his tentacles to support his thoughts. They were like flashes that dispersed as abruptly as they emerged. But judging by the Doc’s eyes, he managed to get all of that.

  “We have some news,” Mark said to the mutant.

  “So, what is it?”

  “We did a blood analysis, restudied the DNA structure…” the alien began, but JB interrupted.

  “The results?”

  “As you wish. According to the new generated virtual model of your organism the process of the DNA adjustment has finished.”

  “So?”

  Then Gibson took the initiative of breaking things down.

  “There are some changes we’ve found,” Mark started. “As it appears, you don’t use the full potential of your body.”

  “I feel fine, man.”

  “No, what I mean is, you can’t use your full potential fully under ordinary circumstances. You’re too phlegmatically calm in most situations.”

  “Yeah. Should I be a drama queen to everything?”

  “No. Maybe. The emotions would let you use more of your strength. We’ve checked your hormones level, those look okay. So it has to be a psychological issue. Are there situations where you may feel lonely in your life?”

  “Doc, I fly a spaceship, most of the time I stay there in space all by myself.”

  “Right, right.”

  “So it has to be a socialization shortage that causes ataraxia?” Mark turned to the college with that suggestion.

  Galuazhee didn’t seem to pay much attention to Gibson’s words. But when he sensed the look on him, the alien thought it was time for him to express his thoughts.

  “An absence of emotions in difficult situations may cause an adrenaline shortage in your blood. That limits your muscle and brain abilities.”

  “Have you just called me faint and stupid?”

  “Yes,” the alien confessed.

  “No-o-o…” Gibson rushed to correct the college.

  He looked seriously at Galuazhee and kept shaking his head, letting him know that they would better not annoy that ranger.

  “What we are saying,” Mark continued. “You need a personal stimulator to normalize the adrenaline balance when the time calls for it. Here, take it.” Doc handed JB a small box with an injector inside. “That’s an essence of the miran lizard's venom, an artificial adrenaline. Just a few grams will increase your strength significantly. Be careful, though, if anyone else tries to use it, they’ll most likely die.”

  “Great, poison in a box. Ain’t Ranger Juice enough for me?”

  “No, that thing is cheap garbage.”

  “It’s not that cheap,” JB mumbled.

  “Look, B. I’m the reason why you are this way. And you’re still my responsibility. So, please, let us just do our job,” Gibson made a try to reach to his patient. “What about your sleep? I need some details.”

  “Same old, same old. Woke up about six weeks ago.”

  “How long do you sleep?”

  “This time I’ve hibernated for three weeks,” JB counted up. “Got lucky, actually. The time matched the flight from Vega system.”

  “Was that hibernation artificial?”

  “No, natural.”

  “You don’t use artifi
cial hibernation?”

  “No, never.”

  “That’s good, keep it that way.”

  “So, what’s the fuss about, Doc?” JB wondered.

  “Your body temperature now stays at a rate of twenty degrees Celsius. You can regulate that from zero to forty at will. If you reach more than forty, it will be harmful to you. But on the other side, when the temperature drops below ten, you may hibernate for months this way.”

  “And I can do all of that by will?”

  “Theoretically, yes. But you’ll need proper training,” Mark explained. “Do you absorb life energy involuntarily on touch?”

  JB stared at Mark with a stone look, as if he was challenging him. Doc accepted and offered the mutant an open hand.

  The ranger grabbed his comrade’s palm and a sly smile grew on his face. Gibson looked worried for a few seconds, but the overall weakness, which he had expected, didn’t come through. And just Doc breathed out with relief, he felt an unexpected lightheadedness. It was it. Then JB released that hand.

  “I can control it now,” Bridgers said. “So, what about that hibernation?”

  Gibson took a few seconds to get back in shape from that evil joke played on him.

  “I can’t tell you anything more for now. If you notice any difficulties, let me know immediately.”

  “Will do.”

  “And the last thing. I don’t know whether it’s good news or bad. I guess it’s up to you to decide. You age slower than you did.”

  “Come again?”

  “According to the simulation, your enhanced metabolism and cell regeneration make you age slower. We weren’t able to figure out a possible lifespan of yours, but it seems that you have about two hundred to three hundred years solid.”

  “Interesting…” JB said. “Is that all?”

  “About you – yes.”

  “Besides me?”

  “We did conduct some research in the field of technology, equipment, weapons, communication and so on. In fact, our R&D team was very busy. But don’t you worry about that, it’s classified. Can’t tell you anything more.”

  “Sweet. One less thing to worry about,” JB replied carelessly. Then he looked at Doc and smiled. “So, what your guys up to? Wanna get wasted?”

  “Here he is! A true ranger,” Gibson said.

  “Yo, Galuazhee!” JB turned to the alien. “Stop staring at that screen, come with us. You pink fuckers need to relax once in a while.”

  Listening to the last JB’s words Gibson wondered why he didn’t try all those years to offer a drink to a namiamifican. And how would that creature drink if it doesn’t have a mouth? Since namiamificans absorb their food through the pores under their legs, it had to be quite a process of getting alcohol there.

  The next morning, Gibson woke up having a terrible headache. He had overslept through the start of his shift. And the memories from the last evening brought him lots of embarrassment. To his astonishment, he found the ranger in the training court, working out at full capacity. JB looked amazingly fresh as if he hadn’t drunk a single drop the night before. Gibson ‘swam’ into the room, glowing with his painful expression.

  “What are you doing here? Why aren’t you asleep?” the scientist pushed out, hardly.

  He took a seat on the bench next to the treadmill, where JB was jogging.

  “Have you forgotten, Doc? I don’t sleep…” JB answered continuing to run on the blue strings of that force field. “Not that often…”

  “Good for you. Well, I sleep…” Doc stretched, yawning.

  “Yeah… I can see that…”

  JB looked at the pillow mark pressed into the Doc’s cheek. Then he stopped jogging. The counter shown the distance ‘159 kilometers.’ The mutant took two silver cans out of the fridge to toss one of them to Gibson.

  “Yo! Catch!”

  “Ranger Juice,” Mark read the label. “I don’t re-com-mend this,” he made another long yawn.

  “And I in-si-i-st!” JB teased him.

  The conversation was moved to the dining room, where the comrades went for breakfast. Just a few sips of that ‘non-recommended’ drink made Mark feel much better. The hangover symptoms passed. Moreover, the scientist felt much energized that he wanted to run, jump around, and do anything just not to stay put.

  “You have a quite a pet here, Doc,” JB said watching Galuazhee, who was passing by.

  “It’s amazing how those things' brains work. I know him for so many years and he still keeps surprising me. Sometimes I wonder if they see us this way. Or they just toy around us, as if we were some silly children… Who would have thought of this the day we arrived?” Gibson said dreamily.

  As a ranger, JB didn’t give that much admiration to other kinds. They were more like entertainment for him. Something, it wouldn’t let him take the allies seriously. But Gibson’s last words made him remember the past.

  “How long ago did you see ours?” JB asked.

  “It has been some time…” the scientist said. “Most of them were sent to the province. Skyman, Ellison, Wash and some of the students joined the armed forces. Many of them have died, you’ve probably heard about that?”

  “Yeah, I have,” JB nodded.

  “The ones who left. Some of them keep in touch. But many have disappeared since Atlantis.” The scientist looked at JB’s expression, full of expectation. He got what the ranger wanted to know. “You probably want to know about Mia most of all?”

  “Most of all, yeah.”

  “I don’t know much,” Gibson continued. “Ellison turned to me for help once. It happened when Mia dropped out of the academy for the first time. She asked me to pull some strings to help Mia get accepted back. And when Ellison was killed in action, Mia stopped studying once again. She ran away from Venus. I’ve heard that she joined one of the pirate clans.”

  “Yeah, Caran-Ken’s clan,” JB confirmed.

  “So, you did know?” Mark wondered. “Why didn’t you bring her back then?”

  “The girl is a real character. She couldn’t be stopped by force. It would make things much worse,” the ranger supposed. “A few solid guys from the clan, who owed me some favors, watched over her. But a few months ago she disappeared. It troubles me a little.”

  “What are you going to do about that? Will you look for her?”

  JB froze in thoughtful calmness for a second.

  “No. Not now, at least,” he said. “Mia is nineteen now, she’s grown and responsible for herself. She can make it on her own. But you do let me know if you discover something about her, though.”

  “Are you serious now?” Gibson laughed. “JB, it’s our third contact for the last five years. I’m sure it would be much easier to find Mia than to reach you.”

  “Touché,” JB smiled back and made a sip. “If you need to get in touch with me, you post a message at the ‘Universe of Warcraft’ forum in ‘Secret Dudes’ Messages’ section.”

  “‘Secret Dudes’ Messages’? Really?” Gibson said skeptically. “Is that your fancy way of secret communication?”

  “Cool, right?!”

  “How should I encrypt it?”

  “You shouldn’t. Just write openly.”

  “Okay, as you wish,” Doc shrugged. “I’ll post messages of top security value at the platform opened for twelve-year olds.”

  “And for rangers.”

  “And for grown-ups with the minds of twelve-year olds,” Mark added. Then he looked at the clock. “Let’s catch up with the schedule now, what do you say? We’re only three hours late.”

  The first item on the schedule was a weapons exposition. Dr. Galuazhee wasn’t needed anymore, JB trusted with his equipment there exclusively to Gibson.

  “This is all yours,” Gibson waved his hand over a desktop, saying those words proudly, as one would present something incredibly huge and valued.

  But all there lay there were a vest and a hand phaser. Not getting the drift JB put that look on Gibson, the one full of confusion, with a b
it of contempt, perhaps.

  “That’s it?”

  “You don’t know what it is!” Mark got the comrade’s mood but wasn’t offended at all. In fact, he was flattered by the little mysteries for others in his inventions. “This vest is not a regular armor vest. This is ‘forcefield electromagnetic damage proof vest.’” Listening to that nonsense, the ranger had already doubts about his earlier decision of giving Doc that Ranger Juice can. “The main purpose of this device is to stop the metal bullets before it hits you with its forcefield. Even if the bullet reaches you, the impact won’t be high enough to harm you. It also has a ‘void’ mode. When it’s on, the bullets will pass by, curving around you. You better not to use it in a group combat since it will hit the ones behind you.”

  “Uhuh… Tell me, Doc, would you? How much time did you spend on making this thing?”

  The ranger didn’t look that impressed.

  “Well… I had this idea a long time ago, back in the twenty-first century, actually. But there were no such batteries yet. You know…” JB nodded. “But, if evaluating the process of production itself. I think two months approximately,” Mark said thinking carefully. “Why?”

  “Oh, nothing… It's just, I’m trying to figure out if all of you have nothing to do here since you have time to make these useless things!” Doc’s eyes filled up with offence against that claim. “Why do I need protection against firearm weapons?! Nobody uses ballistic guns anymore! It’s an era of energy weapons now, yo!”

  “Hm… Fair point,” Doc got caught in thinking. “We can make another series of similar, but adjusted ideas. Put energy collectors there, maybe. With anti-blast plates…”

  “Show me something else,” JB rushed to break Mark’s brainstorm.

  “A phaser!” Doc said out loud proudly again. “Do you still have that gibsonium crystal that I’ve given you?” The ranger nodded in reply. “It’s on you, right?”

  “Always.”

  The big guy’s hand gently touched on that old worn leather sack, which hung on the belt.

  “The miners from Procyon brought me a new superconductor that they had discovered. We haven’t studied this element fully yet. Still, using it, I have made a contact piece to this phaser’s battery. When you learn how to use the crystal’s power, you will be able to recharge the phaser by your own abilities.”