“I’m on my way. What’s happening?”
The crewman who watched over the alien containment sphere described the characteristic syncopation that every soldier in BUMP knew; every pirate in space. In essence, the current message could be decoded simply as, “There is no alien, I am not now possessed,” followed by the name and ID information of the unfortunate man locked inside the synthesized, reversed gravity-well device. As soon as the major had verified this, he contacted the captain, relaying the information.
The situation aboard the Medallion had stabilized. There had been one more casualty in Engineering. Sparks had been keeping the engineering staff to a one-person rotation—locked in—since he’d received the data from Center. It appeared to have saved the woman’s life. She’d been briefly possessed, and only suffered from shock, brought on by the blood-curdling sensation as the creature left her behind for the better nearby hunting grounds of the Boarding Tube.
Though embittered by the loss suffered, the captain had great pride in his crew. Their actions were brave and chivalrous, some sacrificing their known reality for an unknown one. They would be awarded the highest honors, once they were themselves again. If…
But one heart-rending loss could not be recovered: the beautiful, mischievous Taylor Jest. Tears threatened the rims of his eyes any time he considered this failure and loss. His crew was also suffering her loss, particularly Ensign Scott and the young woman who’d over-gravved the containment, Lt. Chamberlain.
Taylor’s body was entombed in a stasis chamber, but the ship’s doctor told him that the damage to her organs was total; there was no hope for her.
That damn girl, I told her to stay in her cabin… He fought his teetering emotions with a spike of anger.
All the fetuses were being safely cared for, some already in standard regrowth tanks.
Acceleration-modified tanks were available back at Dock Toroid Alpha’s military facilities. The only problem now was how to get back to DTA.
Captain Sparks had inspected the engine room for himself. The engineers and demo specialists had first carefully made sure of the deadly safeguards using classified protocols included in Swan’s last transmission, but the explosive inner core of the system had been thoroughly defeated. Inside a sealed chamber, they found the same enigmatic containment sphere as the ones that they had harvested from the dormant ships at the site, similarly damaged and standing empty.
The obvious had dawned upon him then, a piece falling into place—what BUMP had kept from him—that this invader wasn’t simply an aggressive alien life form; it was an element of the very ship that he piloted through the galaxy. Or, had been.
The attacks on his ship and the two others, and likely the Wheel station, coupled with the same subversion of these containments, brought him to yet another disturbing conclusion.
The focused nature of the attacks indicated to him an intelligent, determined goal. He saw now that something had been done that was against all policies regarding any contact with an alien species.
Protocol was drummed into every cadet in SBMMP academy: Observation first. Then, a well-considered attempt at contact—if any at all. And most importantly, respect for any life form deemed to be intelligent, whether it was judged to be on par with humanity or not.
No spacer ever figured on needing what they learned in Xeno-Social Studies, required for a pilot’s license. Same for the military, where many of the cadets found it difficult to wrap their heads around interaction problems with the types of alien creatures dreamt up for the semester length course.
Sparks figured this contact to fall into the category of Energy Being, one of the more confusing alien types that had been proposed. Obviously, strict protocol had been set aside regarding the beings, because of how they allowed the ships to leap interstellar distances. It seemed unlikely to him that the marks of intelligence would have been missed during the development phases of the propulsion system.
He also reasoned that this attack must have been carried out by a pair of the creatures. The tube attack had begun while he was still able to send interstellar transmissions. And then, comm and drive failed in the midst of that attack. The engineer had been possessed for a number of minutes, which must have confused the second creature, being unable to move her body out of engineering. But then, what had happened to that second entity?
The captain was in a hell of a jam. His ship had been abandoned by the enslaved being, now freed from its confinement; apparently rescued by its own kind, so that could mean two still on the loose. Were these the entities from the other two ships? Probably. He’d received the full account of Pirate Patrol One, the Seeker, along with the rest of the information from Center. Clearly, his own ship had been spared the full-scale attack. It might have gone otherwise if they hadn’t had the one trap completed. By the evidence so far, they had one of the things in the containment with the sacrificed crewmember. The word “sacrificed” did not sit well in the captain’s mind, not after what happened to Jest.
Sparks had multiple situations to deal with at the moment: The two grief-stricken soldiers were confined to quarters, Jennifer Scott for insubordination, Chamberlain for a death resulting from failure to follow the letter of the orders. Thank God for Chris Friday; he assisted these women in their grief process, despite his own grief.
The ship was on full alert, trigger fingers edgy; the containment conversion team was working feverishly on reconfiguring the second scavenged containment, in case the missing creatures showed up. Bridge was cooperating with Engineering to reroute some controls around the missing interstellar drive. At present, they had only standard drive—totally inadequate this far out. But it was enough to put a great deal of distance between his ship and the attack site. There was no one to tell him whether to stay or leave, and he saw no reason to tempt fate by remaining.
And now, this new development: the crewman who was stuck in the two-G confinement, rapping out the message that all was well.
This last was the concern that pressed to the fore at the moment. He had a man inside that sphere, for over eight hours now, and while two Gs would be very uncomfortable with some minor medical issues, it was far from lethal. What was he supposed to do? The safest thing was to leave the crewman confined until they returned to the dock, where, he assumed, they would know the precautions to take. But they would never be returning to dock if all they were left with was a standard drive.
Sparks had to take an action that would result in the safety of his crew, in total, but he was loath to let a single man suffer as a consequence. He couldn’t rush into a decision though; he needed to gather as much information as he could. For now, he could only scrutinize the tapes of the attack, hoping to see something that might help.
CHAPTER 77
EVENT: DAY 18, 0845 UT
Alarms were blaring in all military quadrants.
On DTA it went from the M&M Slice and SBMMP docking ports to all BUMP ships in port. The call to stations rang in Dock Cylinder Alpha’s military component and all military facilities Earthside.
Only once in the last fifty years had such an alarm been raised.
Swan’s Earth-based counterpart and alternate spoke into the air, while he listened to his implants. “What do you mean, ‘can’t find him?’ Never mind. What about comm delay? Alright, enough. If they haven’t corrected by now, then it’s going to be too close. On my authority, you have clearance to shoot that bird out of existence. Do it now.” Admiral Sumner rattled off a string of alphanumerics, confirming authority for the in-space nuclear event.
Moments later, in simultaneous launches from both LEO Docks, primary measures were on their way. They were followed by secondary warheads to do a thorough job on the Rapscallion. The remaining debris field of Swan’s doomed contingency plan would be managed by the TLR’s and station-based energy defenses. They would do a cleaner’s job, removing all evidence of the event.
&nbs
p; “Shut down those blasted alarms. Goddamit, I want ANSWERS.”
Words would fail to describe the loss and outrage that many were feeling at that moment.
And while the military did its best to keep its outrage and secrets to itself, skeletons would shortly be walking out of the closet.
CHAPTER 78
EVENT: DAY 18, 0145 to EVENT:
DAY 19, 0100 UT
Without transition, they had arrived.
It was the latest surprise for the two Captains and their passenger: their instantaneous transit of the space between Eighre Masc and the Celestial Wheel station. And, in conjunction with this phenomenal and unexpected interstellar leap, as they lifted out of the frozen atmosphere, the jammed-door problem had mysteriously repaired itself.
In the face of his own skepticism, Garrison demanded of the doctor whether it was the ghosts that were messing with the QB1’s systems. Comani assured Garrison that, according to the ghosts, they had no way to do that.
Comani told him that it was suspected that much higher powers were stepping in, in some way. He said also that the ghosts were “being prepared for a surprise”—one that was hoped to help in the current circumstances. But they would not say more than this.
Garrison assumed he misinterpreted the scientist, but did not pursue it.
The station’s two non-regressed survivors had needed much coaxing to return to a barely communicative state. From a state of shock, they then had to get past full-body convulsions, a product of their psyches, filled with crushing remorse over the death of their station mates and their perceived responsibility. That both had been left alive was a seeming gift, according to Comani, since, apparently, the creatures could consume all but the one host that they used to do their deadly work. They guessed that there had been two of the creatures involved in the attack.
As to the horrible remnants of the attack—the fetuses scattered about, gruesomely littering the station—it left a deep scar on the heart of the three rescuers. There was little they were able to do as they’d looked around, seeing a few that remained alive. It was grace that had gotten them here this quickly; they did what they could.
There were no more than two specialty incubators aboard the station, into which they’d carefully placed a set of fetuses, choosing the first that they found still living. The AI was operational; it would manage the fetuses for up to two months. And while the Quantum Butterfly was a remarkable ship, incubators did not magically appear in the moment that they could have used them. There was not room on their little, ever-more crowded ship in any case. The remaining few that still lived were dying before their eyes. Their witnessing was the only thing that they could grant the departing souls. The idea of giving these individuals some more humane ending was ground on which none wanted to tread. The dead were put in cold stasis.
They kept the time at the station to an absolute minimum for several reasons: they were dead-tired after thirty-four hours awake and could not sleep here; they wanted to get the two victims away from the scene—it was depressing for everyone else, too. But the main reason: coming across QB1’s comm set, Center had begun requesting all available assistance from any ship receiving Center Comm’s transmission…
—Respond to the Medallion.—
There was no evidence of a return response from any other sources.
Garrison’s concerns for Taylor escalated to an imperative to find her.
CHAPTER 79
EVENT: DAY 19, Human Time: 0745 UT
Life energy loss is provisionally suspended.
Are the Circles aligned?
Both the Outer and the Inner.
The Will is enforced by the Higher?
This one and only.
CHAPTER 80
EVENT: DAY 19, 0800 UT
“How can they do it?” he wondered aloud.
A woman’s voice brought him out of his reverie. “What, I should have the answers?”
“I wasn’t asking; don’t you know a rhetorical question when you hear one?”
“I hate rhetorical questions, keep them to yourself. Anyway, you had better get ready, this trans… whatever, it’s supposed to happen any moment.”
He took his turn. “Okay, so now you know so much? We don’t have to get ready; they said it’s just going to happen. And then we say hello, and we tell them the things.”
“Oy. I’m not ready for this. Do I have to be a part of this?”
“If you don’t tell them hello, they’re going to be scared. You don’t want them to be scared, do you?”
She thought about that. Sounded like one of his farkakte rhetorical questions. Well, she answered it anyway. “I could live with it. Especially Sal. I haven’t forgotten that, you know…”
“Oh, woman, you are going to keep a grudge after you’re dead? Where is that going to get you?”
“Here. How’s that? This isn’t exactly what I had in mind for my peaceful slumber, you know.”
Oh boy, here it comes again, he thought. He was tired of her stumping on and on about the order of things; and where was this Heaven that everybody talked about? These were good questions, but when no one was giving answers, it seemed best to let them lie. All in good time, that was his motto, though he was careful not to quote it to her; it would just get him another earful. “If not now, then when?” would be her complaint. She was not a simple woman.
She interrupted the monologue she’d begun. “Hey, what’s that? I feel…” and she disappeared. He felt it too, and suddenly he was home again. His son, Daniel, was setting the table for dinner. From the kitchen, Daniel’s wife called, “Don’t forget the napkins…” His son turned to call back, and he caught sight of his father. From his open mouth, instead, came a shout of shock.
Vanessa heard this and ran in. “WHAT IS IT?” She nearly collided with her dead father-in-law, Joseph. She screamed, backing away.
“Ho… Everybody calm down, calm down,” he attempted to pacify.
“Father?” Daniel, breathless, was stunned. “Father? What… no… how…” His sentence petered out as Vanessa, eyes wide, hyperventilated against the sideboard which prevented her from backing farther.
Joseph turned to her. “I’m really here—for the moment—it’s okay, dear; I’m not a ghost,” he chuckled, “for the moment.”
Everybody was quiet for a few loud heartbeats, trying to make sense of what was happening. After several seconds, Daniel asked a question that was so natural to him, it just came of its own accord: “Where’s mom?”
“She went to your sister, Heaven protect your brother-in-law, Sal—your mother’s still mad about that,” he explained.
Vanessa’s tone of hushed awe pulled both of their attentions to her. “Oh my God…” She had her hands steepled in front of her mouth. “Oh my God, Papa.” She reached out toward him slowly, her fingers gently testing the fabric of his old corduroy jacket that had been his favorite in life. Still was.
“Yes, my dear, it is so lovely to see you too.” He opened his arms to his adoring daughter-in-law and she moved into his embrace with a sob of emotion.
Daniel asked, “Father, is this some sort of miracle? You are dead. Right?” His question was full of doubt.
Joseph looked at his son—it certainly counted as a miracle in his book—and gave a mute nod, conscious of Vanessa’s state of emotion. He moved his embrace from around her waist bringing his hands up to softly rest on her shoulders. As she looked into his face with her wet one, he said, “Well my dears, I have some news, both good and bad, that you will want to hear. Come, let’s sit. I shall not be here long, and I won’t be returning again.”
CHAPTER 81
EVENT: DAY 20, 1315 UT
Presented with its ghostly counterpart, the greater majority of the earthbound human race initially withdrew in their astonishment.
Still, in light of the revelations that were brought, co
ld, hard facts needed to be faced.
The various isolated collections of stunned humans throughout local galactic space were quicker to come to grips. Life was far more fragile for these groups and they pulled together, though raggedly. They established the cooperative structure that humans were so good at, forming a strong community in an emergency. It could only last for so long in the case of cut-off outposts that relied on trade from the outside.
Ships that had been simultaneously deprived of their interstellar drives were effectively adrift, the farthest out being a few terrologists. Last known positions and trajectories would have to do for locating them, if the ability to do so manifested. Most of these ship occupants were in essentially the same position as the outposts; while they had their standard drives, they did not have the latest experimental innovation in food technology: the replicators. Food supplies would be depleted and crews would die well before most could reach a suitable terraformed or earth-like planet. And then, none of these worlds were yet self-sustaining. Just one had a rudimentary outpost on its surface, still needing additional infrastructure that relied upon the failed supply lines.
The ethereally-delivered revelation—that man had been in contact with aliens—did not surprise the spacers, and it satisfied many who had always believed that secrets were being kept from them. But the nature of that alien association held no similar satisfaction. Instead it served to unnerve these people who were cut off and vulnerable to the attacks that the ghosts mentioned.
The fact that the itinerant visitor-relatives would not give details of the attacks was seen as bad. It fed fears of the unknown. What they did say, while sparing the people from the macabre particulars, was that actions were being taken to resolve a cosmic misunderstanding. The mass of ghostly messengers had assured their flesh and blood counterparts that attempts were being made to communicate with the entities that had killed most of the crews on the attacked ships and stations.
Parallel Extinction (Extinction Encounters Book 1) Page 40
