Exodus Of The Phoenix

by Robert Stadnik

  “He may be concerned, but I don’t blame him,” said Mary, trying to not draw too much attention to the captain’s apparent nervousness about the mission.

  “You're not worried too are you?”

  “A little bit. I’m actually more curious. I’d like to know exactly why the HORIZON stopped transmitting.”

  The HORIZON was the International Space Agency's (ISA) pride and joy. It was to be the first ship to depart the solar system and travel through interstellar space, all thanks to the sophisticated jump gate it was carrying.

  “What do you think happened?” Juan was eager to hear what an experienced space junkie like Mary thought. But she wasn’t interested in feeding any of his space faring fantasies.

  “I think it’s a busted transmitter, nothing more.” She recounted all the ‘rescue’ missions she did where a supposedly lost ship had nothing more than failed communications equipment.

  “Ahh, bullshit! You’re not any fun. You know what I think? The HORIZON encountered something.”

  “Oh really?” Mary was amused but not surprised with his theory. It was typical for a young man to let his imagination get the better of him. “Some little green aliens we didn’t find on Mars are actually living on Pluto?”

  “Maybe. I’ll bet you the HORIZON is in a thousand pieces, blown away by a ship or weapon hidden on Pluto.”

  “You’ve been watching too many movies.” Even in this early age of space flight, no one took the thought of aliens seriously. It was a concept exploited over and over again in movies. The ISA had been sending out communications signals for years, but never received any replies. Personally, Mary didn't believe in aliens. It was the stuff of fiction, not reality.

  "The HORIZON is probably already at Alpha Centauri." A blip from the computer interrupted their chat. Mary’s attention was drawn to her console. She immediately sat up straight and took a look at the information the sensors provided her. “We’ve got an object moving at high velocity in our general direction.” Juan checked his monitor which registered the same blip.

  “I have it on my scope. Is it the HORIZON?” asked Juan.

  That was Mary's initial assumption. The RENAULT and HORIZON were the only ships known to be in the outer solar system, but the sensor data indicated the object was moving faster than the HORIZON’s top speed. The HORIZON could only achieve such velocity if it used the gravity well of Pluto to slingshot back to the inner solar system. Mary also noticed the mass of the object was smaller than the HORIZON. She tried to get more details on the projectile, but the RENAULT wasn’t equipped with sophisticated scanners to provide detailed information. She fiddled with the controls, but she couldn’t get an accurate reading of the object.

  “Juan, alter our course by 30 degrees portside,” ordered Mary. Juan did what she asked, but he was unnerved that she never answered his question. Not yet alarmed, Mary got on the ship’s speakers to inform the captain of their current situation.

  “Captain, we’ve got a UFO moving in our direction,” she said, without a hint of nervousness in her voice.

  “Unidentified? Damn it! I’ll be right up.”

  Mary clicked off the speaker and stared at the screen. What could it be? The object was smaller than the RENAULT and Mary couldn’t recall any other commercial craft with the ability to move so fast. They were told the military didn't have any long range ships. Even if what they were tracking was a military craft it would have broadcasted a transponder identification code.

  “Shit man!” blurted Juan in a panic tone. “It’s changed direction to match our course correction. It’s still heading right towards us.”

  “Relax Juan. It’s not little green men coming after us.” Mary tweaked the scanners to their most sensitive setting, hoping to get something of a fix on what the object might be. But the sensors wouldn’t yield any new information.

  Now Mary was becoming worried. She thought it may have been some interstellar debris or comet, but that assumption flew out the window when the object matched the RENAULT’s course correction. She always had logical explanations to explain a situation, but this defied all logic. The only conclusion that fit with this situation was that the object was a ship.

  “Fire up the top cannon and target the object,” ordered Mary. Her instruction confirmed Juan’s fears that they were in trouble. But she had no interest in coddling him. “If we can’t avoid it we’ll have to prevent it from colliding with us.”

  As Juan worked the cannon controls, Mary altered their heading by another 20 degrees and fired up the ship’s thrusters to full speed. Again, the object matched the RENAULT’s change in course. Mary said nothing, but a lump developed in her throat. Not knowing what was approaching was beginning to scare her. She still hoped it was a military vessel, but the lack of a transponder code made it unlikely. In addition, the captain received specific information from the military stating they had no long range ships out this far. So if it wasn’t the HORIZON and assuming the military was telling the truth, what could this object be?

  “The cannon’s charged and ready,” said Juan, who was beginning to sweat as nerves started to overwhelm his senses. Mary didn’t look at him as he spoke, instead focusing her attention at the blip on her station screen.

  “I said the cannon’s ready,” repeated Juan. Mary ignored his panic tone out as she speculated on what they were dealing with. The object continued to move at the same rate of speed towards them. Given its rate of velocity, a collision would certainly destroy the RENAULT.

  Then it clicked. They hadn’t done the one obvious thing. Mary turned on the communications antenna. “Unidentified object, this is the ETS RENAULT. Repeat, this is the Earth Transport Ship RENAULT, Mars registry M-B412. Please identify yourself.” She wanted to hit herself for letting her fears get in the way of her thinking, but now she felt a bit more at ease. Certainly they would get a response from it.

  She held her breath, hoping to hear an answer to the hail, but at first only background static filled the speakers. Then, without warning, a large screeching sound came through the speakers. It was deafening and painful, piercing through the crew’s ears. Juan could only sit with his hands clamped over his ears in a vain attempt to block the sound out. Mary ignored the pain, despite it feeling like a hundred knives were stabbing her brain. She scrambled in her seat and turned off the speakers to get relief from the sound.

  “Chica,” said Juan, ignoring the ringing in his ears. “The object, it’s moving faster.” Mary checked her scope. The object had indeed accelerated to twice its previous speed. It was moving too fast now to avoid it. The RENAULT couldn't outrun something moving so fast. Fear had now gripped Mary and she was paralyzed at her station. It had been years since she felt this way.

  “Juan, how long will it take to deploy and activate the sensor packet on the probe?” she managed to mutter in a low tone.

  “Two minutes. Why?”

  “Deploy the probe and activate its sensors. Have it send all data to the nearest listening post around Mars.”

  “What’s that going to do to help us?” he sputtered almost hysterically.

  “We don’t have much time,” replied Mary, becoming calm as her fear subsided. It was strange but somehow she knew their fates were sealed. It did nothing to eliminate her fear, but somehow the realization provided her with some small comfort. “Launch the probe.”

  “Aw, shit, shit, shit…,” said Juan over and over again as he hit the release button and launched the probe. He watched on his monitor as the probe slowly glided away from the RENAULT. Once it had reached a far enough distance from the ship he activated it. Its outer silver-colored cylindrical casing blew off and two large poles retracted outward. Within moments the sensor pallet on the probe powered up and became active. Juan linked the probe to the ship’s scanner system.

  “It’s done.” But Mary didn't hear him. She just looked out through the bridge windows.

  “Chica, what is it?” he asked, seeing her in an almost trance-like state.r />
  “It should be in visual range any moment,” said Mary, trying to catch some glimpse of the object. “As soon as it’s in range, fire the cannon.” Juan set the cannon to auto fire on the object once it got close enough.

  “What should we do?” he asked, looking for direction from Mary, but she said nothing. He turned around and looked at her, panic clearly visible on his face. “Mary, we need to do something.”

  He was young and inexperienced. Mary didn’t have the heart to tell him she was out of options and she was too preoccupied with trying to locate the object outside.

  Juan jumped out of his chair and approached her. “We can’t just sit here.”

  “There’s nothing else we can do,” she muttered, never taking her eyes off the bridge window. All Juan could do now was look out the window with her and try to find the object approaching them.

  For what seemed like an eternity both searched for signs of the oncoming object. Neither noticed the captain entering the bridge behind them. He heard everything that they both said in the last few minutes and realized his instincts were correct. He should have never accepted this job. All they could do now was see what would come.

  A bright light blinked in the far distance, catching the crew's attention. It grew bigger and bigger, as if a star was being born and shining its light for the entire universe to behold. The three hearts of the RENAULT’s crew began to beat rapidly in unison. The captain and Mary both stood their ground, but the fear finally overtook Juan as he scurried to the rear of the bridge like a frightened child.

  The light grew in both size and intensity as it reached the ship and enveloped it. The cannon never had time to fire as the targeting system malfunctioned from an energy overload.

  For a brief moment, in the vacuum and darkness of space, a bright ball of orange light shimmered where the RENAULT held its position. When the light dissipated all that was left were shards and burnt pieces of metal where the freighter ship once hovered. The only other movement was that of the unknown object, a green triangular ship.

  The ship slowly passed by the remnants of the RENAULT. It stopped briefly, as if observing the wreckage, but only for a moment. The ship then turned and sped away from the scene, quickly racing out the same path it came in. The only witness was the sensor probe that had survived the incident. It floated unassuming through space as it continued to transmit its data back towards Mars.

  CHAPTER ONE

  December 2142, seventy-four years later

  Location: Governors Island - New York City, New York

  Planet Earth

  The sounds of the electronic bells reverberated through the corridors of the academic buildings at TERRA Academy. At Liberty Hall, students burst out from the lecture rooms and spilled into the large hallway. Cheers echoed throughout the building as the cadets celebrated the end of the winter semester. A mixture of first, second, third, and fourth year students wasted no time sharing tales of final exam horrors as they exited the building. One student walked casually through the crowd without speaking a word to anyone. He was oblivious to his peers and did not care to participate in their ritualistic banter. Only a shout from behind stopped his advance out of the building.

  “John! Hey, John! Wait up!” John turned to see his best friend racing up to him.

  “Hey Billy,” said John. Once Billy reached him, the young men headed out of the building onto the campus grounds which was now flooded with cadets.

  “How do you think you did on McLeeland’s final?” asked Billy, as he brushed his hand through his short, dusty blonde hair.

  “Wasn’t a problem,” replied John nonchalantly. Billy knew his friend’s low key response meant he aced the exam.

  “Bullshit! I saw you finish it in like, twenty minutes.”

  John smiled. “What can I say? McLeeland’s tests are never that hard.”

  Billy shook his head. “Maybe for you. You’re the only person who would say something like that.” It was generally agreed amongst the student body that LaDonna McLeeland gave the toughest exams on campus. “If only I could get by without studying.”

  “Hey, I actually read the textbook this semester,” said John. “Well, portions of it.” Billy just stared at him. "Alright, I only skimmed the chapter summaries."

  Billy rolled his eyes as they walked through the campus. “So you actually turned on your DAT this semester. You're probably the first one who's passed spatial physics without reading the text.” Both cadets stopped when they reached the quad area. “Since we’re done with finals we better head back to Dorm Row and get ready for the parties tonight.”

  "Can't, I’ve got to see Superintendent Mortino in a couple of hours,” said John. “I’m just going to hang around here until the meeting." The request from the superintendent’s office came in on John’s DAT (Data Acquisition Terminal) just before the start of his last final.

  “You either got a spring assignment in the fleet or pissed Mortino off again.”

  “Yeah, I'm sure I'm at the top of the list to work in the fleet this spring," said John as he rolled his eyes.

  Those seniors lucky enough to be chosen for a spring assignment had the opportunity to spend their last semester getting hands on experience in the field. Competition was fierce as cadets spent their entire four years at the Academy proving to the faculty they were worthy for selection. Cadets posted to the fleet their last semester typically climbed faster through the ranks of TERRA.

  John never made any attempt to solidify his chance for an assignment. It meant trying to ingratiate himself with the staff and John didn't operate that way. As a result, there were very few professors who liked John.

  "No, I'm still scheduled to take classes,” said John. “So that means I must have ticked off our superintendent.”

  “Any idea what it’s about?”

  “Who knows? But I’m sure it’ll be followed up with a lecture about me not putting forth my best effort.” Billy laughed as John almost sounded like Mortino on one of his tirades.

  “Well, that sucks if you’re stuck here ‘till June,” said Billy.

  “I don’t care. I'll gladly pass up a post this spring as long as I get a position on one of the capital ships after graduation.”

  “I heard Martin Freeman got picked for an assignment,” said Billy. “He’s going to be working in orbital control on Luna Station.”

  “Martin’s a brown noser and an asshole,” said John. ”He probably slept with an admiral to get the assignment.”

  “Damn, John! A bit bitter, aren’t we?” remarked Billy, who was surprised by his friend’s strong reaction. “You may have standards, but I’d sleep with the superintendent’s eighty year old wife just to get a spring post.”

  John shuddered at the thought. “That is the sickest, most twisted thing you’ve ever said! Thanks for the visual. I'm going to have nightmares.”

  Billy playfully shoved his friend on the arm. “Oh, come on. People would do anything for an assignment and you’re no different.”

  “Yeah, but I’m a realist.” Billy couldn’t disagree with his friend. John’s cavalier attitude about his studies and his perceived capability of the faculty as inferior had alienated him from any chance of being sponsored for a coveted spot in the fleet for his last semester.

  The pair approached the central square of the campus. “Well, whatever Mortino is going to lay into you about, don’t let it go on too long. I’ll be with the guys at Sirk’s celebrating. So hurry up otherwise you'll miss the fun.”

  “I’m not missing out on tonight,” said John as the young men parted ways and headed in opposite directions. “I’ll call you when I’m done with Mortino.”

  “Sounds good,” called back Billy, signaling with his thumb up.

  As John and Billy parted ways, Superintendent Paul Mortino was standing alone in the conference room on the top floor of the administration building. He watched from the window as the students scurried around the campus grounds like ants, the same process repeated each sem
ester. With finals over and the stress of their studies behind them, cadets wasted no time heading back to Dorm Row for a weekend of celebration. The campus would soon be nothing more than a ghost town. Everyone, including the faculty, would be hurrying home to spend time with their loved ones for the winter break. No instructor ever graded winter exams on campus. In a matter of hours, only the maintenance bots would be left to tidy up the grounds.

  The superintendent enjoyed watching his students go about their activities. He felt like a father figure as he observed their interactions with one another as they meandered off the campus grounds. He took his duties as superintendent seriously and believed the performance of the cadets was a reflection on his ability to run the Academy. He felt pride seeing the students head home after another semester of hard work.

  The creaking sound of the conference room door opening interrupted Mortino’s thoughts. He turned to see the campus instructors file in.

  “Ah, ladies and gentleman. Please come in and sit,” he said in his usual formal tone. He moved to the head of the conference table and waited patiently for the instructors to take their seats. “I know you are all anxious to head home so I won’t take too much of your time.”

  As the last instructor took his seat, Mortino handed a stack of papers to the instructor sitting to his left. “What I’m passing to you is a list of some of the seniors graduating this year. As you know, TERRA is overburdened with excess personnel and has been looking to curtail the numbers. Lowering the number of students we accept to the Academy has not had an appreciable effect on this problem. You've all heard these past few weeks the rumors about a new program being instituted to solve TERRA’s problem. I'm here to confirm those rumors are true."