by T. R. Harris
This oddity also confused Darion. Nassmar was a high official in the Intelligence Corps; he would surely rank a more substantial and dignified workspace than a former storeroom.
Even so, that was none of her concern. She kept a watchful eye on the alien, a finger hovering above the activation switch for the collar. She had been at the arena a few days before, also on duty with the security force. Although her charge had done nothing wrong, she observed with shock and trepidation what happened with the other Humans, the breed they called REVs. She had never seen anything like it. These were indeed primitive creatures, for only the most savage could withstand such abuse. She caught herself. It wasn’t abuse when delivered to the enemy. And there was no greater enemy in her mind than the murderous Humans.
She smiled, tempted at the moment to activate the collar, for no other reason than to see the Human writhe in agony. But would he? None of the others had. Still, it would give her much pleasure to press the button.
And then her attention was diverted when the Antaerean—Kallen Zaphin—burst into the office before the interview began, only to be summarily dismissed by Torin Nassmar. Although she couldn’t hear what was said, she did take satisfaction with the expression on the yellow-skinned alien. She had seen him prancing around the security building acting superior and nominally in charge. It was good to see him put in his place.
And then the silent interview began.
Since she wasn’t privy to what was being said, Darion made a game out of trying to decipher the words through the participants’ body language. The Human appeared to be pleading a case of some kind, with Nassmar growing angrier by the minute. At one point, the Inquisitor even stood up and yelled at the alien before slumping back in his chair as more discussion took place. And then the tone of the interview shifted. Nassmar began to look more unsure, even as the Human became animated. In the end, there seemed to be a tacit agreement reached. When the Human left, he was fighting to restrain his excitement, while the Inquisitor looked morose.
Darion was confused and vaguely concerned by what was said during the interview, although she couldn’t hear. But one thing was obvious; the interview had not gone as Torin Nassmar expected.
Then the Inquisitor quickly cleared the desktop, unceremoniously dumping the contents into a large drawer with no regard to organization or preservation. His mood had changed, and he was preparing to leave. But what happened next was the most puzzling of all.
The door suddenly opened, and the formerly-chastised Antaerean, Kallen Zaphin, reentered the office. His expression was one of joy, even elation. And Nassmar shared the emotion, neither removing the alien from the room nor scolding him in any manner as he’d done before. At the moment, they appeared to be associates, if not friends. Zaphin even went so far as to clasp the Inquisitor’s shoulder in a sign of congratulations before they exited the room.
This was not what Darion expected to see, and it raised her curiosity to the breaking point. After entering a secret locking code into her data screen, she accessed the main file for the interview, the one that contained the full record before the audio was stripped out and stored separately. She made a copy and transferred the master file to a datachip. It wasn’t hard to access the main file since no special watches were placed on the contents. There was no need. She had her orders, and no one suspected she would disobey them, the least of which was Darion Crolous.
She took the chip and placed it in her pocket. She would listen to it later, in the safety and security of her home. A part of her was telling her to throw the chip away, while another resisted. This was none of her concern; if it were, she would have been given full access to the interview. However, the security agent part of her mind was saying there was something sinister that just took place in the former storage room. She couldn’t let it go without finding out what.
Chapter 3
“Mr. Price, you have a link coming in from Earth,” said a young seaman, a Vee—a normal Human—and not one of the rare Zetas still left in the fleet.
“Tell them I’ll call them back!” Angus yelled over the din on the bridge of the Taipei. Things tended to get a little hectic when the fleet was under attack.
Angus quickly forgot about the seaman, concentrating his attention on the tac screen. “Only one?”
“As far as we can detect,” said a voice from the weapons section. “But they’re launching their fighters. ETA to contact, four minutes.”
Angus already knew his contingent of 308 fighters was down to only forty-eight. The Seken mothership was capable of launching a couple of hundred fighters at a time. He would have to deploy some of the smaller, more maneuverable units in his scaled-down fighting force to protect against the incoming.
“Launch the 308s,” he ordered. “Then get the Corsairs out to form a screen. The rest of the fleet is to maintain maximum burn until we reach the boundary.”
Angus knew the motherships weren’t particularly fast. Their strength came from their cloaking ability that allowed them to sneak up on a target unseen. Fortunately for Angus, the techs had discovered a tell-tale energy signature that could be tracked once one knew what to look for. It was a trailing indicator, but it did serve to give a few minutes warning when a mothership was in the vicinity.
The battle-carrier jerked from the multiple electromagnetic launches of the 308s. Angus was still in command of a war fleet, but one that was only a shadow of the one-thousand-ship behemoth that had attacked the planet Voris ten days before. He was down to just under six hundred ships, not counting the small number of fighters in the holds. But the number was deceiving. A full forty percent of his task force was made up of support vessels; supply, maintenance and bulk troop carriers that had been in the rear area during the battle. When the Azloreans counterattacked, both Angus and Zac were caught with their pants down against the superior firepower and machinery of the natives. Most of Zac’s half of the fleet was destroyed, including all his fighters, while Angus got a brief heads up about what was headed his way. He sounded the general retreat and managed to salvage a portion of his capital ships and a fraction of his fighters. Then he led a headlong race out of the Voris system and into deep space.
Fortunately for him, the Azlorean jump fighters—ships capable of disappearing on the scopes only to reappear a few thousand miles away—were short-range vessels and unable to follow the fleet beyond the boundary of the star system. But there were twelve Seken motherships in the system at the time. They took up the chase, and already four had engaged the armada. With each contact, Angus was able to fight them off, but only after the loss of a dozen warships along with a few fighters he couldn’t spare.
The Human fleet was still two hundred fifty light-years deep in what was marked as Seken Federation territory, with fifteen days a full thrust to reach the quasi-boundary between Seken and Human space. Even making it to the border wouldn’t guarantee their safety. It had taken nearly every ship they could muster in the Outer Reaches to build the armada. Besides the units Angus had under his command, there were very few additional assets he could call up. For all intents and purposes, the space between the Federation and the Grid was wide open to the Seken … and now the Azloreans.
Angus tried to concentrate on the small battle taking place within a few million miles of his main fleet. He had no real concern whether or not his forces would prevail. They would. It was just frustrating knowing he was about to lose even more precious resources in the fight.
He shuddered at the thought that this was against a single Seken mothership and not the full might that was about to be sent against the Humans and Earth. He and Zac had been duped into attacking an innocent and highly-advanced civilization. Although deceived by Kallen Zaphin, there was no way the Azloreans would simply let the mistake stand. Millions of their citizens had died, along with a half-dozen cities destroyed, and with no warning or provocation. They were coming, and there was nothing the Humans could do to prevent it.
The situation was dire enough when it
was just the Seken they were fighting. Now the threat against them had doubled—hell, more than doubled after experiencing first-hand what the Azloreans could bring to the table.
As a REV, Angus had been slowly divorcing himself from any real loyalty to his homeworld. That wasn’t his choice. Humanity was rapidly coming to resent the superiority of the REVs in all their wonderous variety, be they Alphas, Charlies, Zetas or the two Deltas, Angus and Zac. Already, most REVs had been exiled from Earth, taking the planet Crious as their adopted homeworld. Even so, with the threat now facing Humanity as a whole—including the REVs—it was all for one and one for all, as they say. Either the Human race survives together, or they die together. That was becoming more apparent by the day.
Angus focused on the chatter of the loudspeakers; selected communications with the squad leaders and the Corsairs. The battle didn’t last long—only about ten minutes—with the superior abilities of the Zeta pilots making short work of the Seken warships. In the end, the losses to Angus’s fleet were about on par for such engagements. Six fighters and one Corsair. The problem: at this pace, there may not be a fleet left to escape the Seken Federation.
“Recall the fighters,” he ordered in a tired voice. Although Deltas didn’t become physically exhausted, Angus was weary mentally. The past ten days had been draining, and every day was a repeat of the last.
He left the bridge and went to his away cabin at the rear of the CIC. He knew Earth would be expecting an update on the battle, as well as to cover the subject they originally called to discuss. Neither subject gave him any enthusiasm.
The screen was divided into four segments, two with individuals and two showing larger rooms with people sitting at polished conference tables. Angus had been expecting the call. What he wasn’t counting on was a Seken attack just as the link came through.
“Colonel Price, give us an update,” said Admiral Mark Proctor, the head of Earth’s space operations. He had a screen to himself, as did Doctor David Cross. Angus could tell the REV scientist wasn’t in his office on Enif. Even so, he was surprised to see him on the conference call. This meeting wasn’t the type he was typically invited to attend.
“The attack was repelled; six more 308s gone and one fast-attack frigate, sir,” Angus reported.
“How far are you from the boundary?”
“Still quite a ways, fifteens days as the crow flies. We didn’t decrease speed when the mothership showed up. But I can guarantee you the Seken are moving units in ahead of us. We’ve been racing for a point in space for the past ten days without any evasive maneuvers. They know where we’re headed.”
“Do your best, Colonel. We have thirty ships steaming for the boundary as we speak to give you support.”
“Thirty, sir?”
“That’s all we can muster at this time.”
“And what about the video?” Angus asked. “Any plans in the works for a rescue?”
This time a civilian spoke up, seated at the head of one of the conference tables. She was Leona Bick, the Secretary of Defense for the World Government.
“Absolutely not,” she announced. “The idea is preposterous. I’m sorry.”
“But General Murphy is alive,” Angus countered. “The broadcast proves it.”
Five days before, the fleet intercepted an open broadcast from Voris, the homeworld of the Azloreans. It showed a several-hours-long event taking place in an outdoor sports arena. During the show, several Azlorean officials made impassioned speeches about the tragedy that had just befallen their planet. The camera panned around the podiums showing others that were seated nearby. Angus was shocked to tears when he saw Zac in the Grandstand, wearing some kind of security collar and shackled to his seat. Then his REV temper boiled over when he saw Kallen Zaphin seated next to him, appearing to be enjoying himself in the morning sun of Voris. Somehow, both had survived, with one an honored guest and the other the focus of hatred for billions of natives.
And then five Zetas were paraded onto the field and killed in various savage ways, although—apparently—not as the master-of-ceremonies expected.
From that moment on, Angus was determined to launch a mission to rescue Zac, feeling guilty about not double-checking to see if he was alive before leaving the star system. Also, his exasperation was compounded knowing that every hour that passed was putting another light-year between him and Voris. His hope of rescuing Zac was fading by the moment. What he needed was a sanctioned operation supported by Earth. He sent the video to his superiors with a recommendation to mount a rescue mission to save Zac.
“Colonel, you have to realize the futility of such a mission,” Bick was saying. “Besides the fact that there is no sane way we could get assets into place to affect such an operation, we cannot spare the resources.”
“All I need is four men and a ship,” Angus said. “I’ll go in myself. It won’t take much—”
“Just the only Delta REV that’s still operational. Although I know these Zetas are a notch above the others, you, Colonel Price, are now one of a kind, and I can’t risk losing you on a fool’s errand. I’m sure General Cross will agree.”
“I do,” David Cross replied emphatically. “Angus, you have to realize Zac is being held on a planet for which we have no intelligence and being held at a location that we have no idea where. The natives have superior technology to Earth’s, and they look nothing like us. And at the moment, Voris is over two hundred forty light-years away from your fleet and getting farther by the hour. Add the fact that we don’t have any small spacecraft that can make a journey like that without refueling, and you can see how impossible a rescue would be to mount. And before you suggest it, asking us to turn the fleet around and head back to Voris to try and save one man is out of the question. The priority at this time is to preserve your units, not sacrifice them in a losing cause. Angus, I think it’s time you accept the fate of General Murphy.”
Angus glared at Cross, not so much because of what he just said, but because of all the things he knew about the good doctor.
“That’s easy for you to say; you’ve been trying to get rid of him since the day you created him.”
Cross frowned at the obscure reference, one which he was sure would be lost on the majority of those on the call.
“This isn’t personal, Colonel. I’ve known Zac for most of his adult life. I regret what has happened to him. But now it’s time to think of the bigger picture. Earth is facing her most serious crisis. We all have to work together to make sure Humanity lives out the year. We can’t let our personal animosities get in the way.”
“Gentlemen, please,” Leona Bick said impatiently. “Let’s stay on topic. At the moment, there is no conceivable way we could even consider a rescue mission for General Murphy. What we must do is find a way to defend the Earth from the Seken, and now this new race, the Azloreans. How we got ourselves into this position is immaterial, and there will be casualties along the way. General Murphy is one of them. What we need now are solutions. Dr. Cross, would you care to update the committee on the progress you’ve been making.”
“Progress?” Angus asked. “Progress on what?” Angus knew it had to have something to do with creating a new breed of REV. That was what Cross did—he made new REVs by combining the genes of older REVs. Did he have something better than the Zetas?
“Please, Colonel Price,” Bick said. “Surely you didn’t think your fleet was the only basket we had for our eggs. Doctor Cross has had a secret project under development for some time. Go ahead, Doctor, give us your update.”
Angus buttoned his lips and listened. Was there hope after all?
David Cross always had a flair for the dramatic. He now brushed back his too-long-for-the-military silver hair and took a deep breath, leaving his audience anticipating his next words.
“As most of you know, my Zeta REVs are more than just strong and durable. They’re also smart, smarter than even the majority of geniuses on Earth.” He hurried along before the protests were voiced. “
What I mean to say is they have the capacity to be smarter … once they have been exposed to a particular regimen. Because of this, I have had teams working on deciphering Seken technology, even while the same effort was taking place on Earth. Fortunately, the REVs have progressed at a much quicker pace. At the beginning of the Seken conflict, we acquired pieces of the alien’s technology, including the cloaking device they use on their larger ships. My people went to work learning all they could about it. We were also aware of the drawback within the system, that of the wave signal it left in its wake.” He stopped and grinned into the camera. “I’m pleased to announce that we have fixed that flaw and now have a working plan to include this technology in all of our ships.”
“Advanced stealth technology?” a brigadier general asked from along one of the conference tables.
“That’s right, general. And without leaving a trace of its effects.”
“How does this affect the war effort?” asked a civilian, sounding skeptical. “We already have a type of stealth tech working, and the Seken version hasn’t proven to be a game-changer, not after we discovered how to track them. I accept that making the tech even more undetectable will help, but that hardly qualifies as revolutionary. And even if it were, how long will it take to build ships using this new tech? We are under a deadline here.”
“Your last question first, Mr. Keller,” Cross said pleasantly. “You misunderstand. This is not a new ship design we’re talking about. Instead, it’s an add-on, something that can be retrofitted to just about anything larger than a shuttle with the energy resource necessary to power the system. Our modules will make nearly all our warships invisible to the enemy, rather than just the motherships like the Seken have.” He smiled. “You see, although the Seken may be more advanced than we are overall, Humans have an innate ability to copy just about anyone and anything. Once we knew what was possible and had some hard equipment to lead us in the right direction, my REVs have made miraculous strides in only a few months. Not only that, but we’ve added a special bonus to the tech, some even more revolutionary.”
