Colony (Terran Chronicles Book 3)

by James Jackson

  Sharz tilts his head, “Yes!” he says forcefully, “Stay away from the Atlans. They plan to dominate the galaxy, and with no one to stop them, they may very well succeed.”

  George is baffled, “If we look similar, why would you help us?”

  Before Sharz can reply, Voknor’s voice interjects, “Because it is time.”

  George frowns at the cryptic answer, but says nothing, what am I not being told?

  Sharz straightens, then says firmly, “The ship is yours George, you will have complete control over who is on board.”

  Regent Voknor steps closer to the screen, and says with great conviction, “If your military won’t listen, then I shall destroy the ship, the construction dock we left on your planet, and re-activate the satellite defense systems. Do I make myself clear?”

  George nods his head, “Yes Regent.”

  Voknor turns to sneer at the group of military men standing in the room, “But, do they understand?”

  George smiles, “You can be rather convincing Regent,” he says as he looks around the room at the soldiers.

  Voknor turns to look at George, “Your status is Prime, something never done before in our history. The ship will only respond to your voice, crew it as you see fit.”

  George gulps, “Why me Regent? I do not seek this responsibility, nor do I crave power.”

  Regent Voknor simply folds his arms across his chest, then begins his scary looking laugh, “George,” he shakes his head, “Gamin warriors spend years training, simply in the hope that they may become a Prime. I have never heard of anyone not wanting the honor.”

  George stammers quickly, “I meant no offense, Regent.”

  Voknor stares back, his yellow irises showing brightly, “Then honor my clan, rally your crew, and explore the stars.”

  The Regent’s face vanishes, leaving George completely perplexed by the day’s events. He turns to Lisa and mouths quietly, “I did not want this.”

  The old soldier waits for a few seconds, then lifts a previously hidden microphone of his own. He speaks softly into it, all the while staring intently at George. The screen lights back up, George looks, his smile freezes in place. Instead of the Regent, he finds himself face to face with the Presidents of the USA and Russia on a split screen.

  The American President stares at George from the screen, “I will not let you...” The room immediately goes pitch black.

  The underground complex is not the only place where power has failed.

  The American President stands utterly dumfounded in his Oval Office. He taps his useless computer, then motions for an aide to assist him. The secret service agents glance around, concern on their faces as their ear pieces go silent.

  Nuclear plants across America begin to systematically power down. Operators frantically attempt to access their systems, but none are able to stop the process. A group of tourists is walking across the Hoover Dam when its jet flow gates and spillways open, and begin releasing enormous volumes of water. They cheer in excitement at the spectacle, taking numerous pictures as they gawk at the unexpected sight. Inside the mighty complex, operators stare transfixed at their controls as the generators shut down, adding to their woes. Even the massive spinning blades belonging to the numerous wind turbines that dot the American landscape begin to slow down.

  Within ten minutes of the President’s words, America is almost completely dependent on its neighbors for electricity. Diesel generators start up in all the major cities as the power grid’s cascade failure continues. Battery back-up power on the cell phone towers engage, but these reserves will not last long, a few hours at best.

  The American President slams his hands onto his desk, “I will not let that alien dictate to me, George will get to control that ship over my dead body.”

  One of the secret service agents glances at his colleagues, his earpiece is working again. A single look is all he needs to tell the others to leave the room.

  The Presidents face twitches in anger, “Will someone tell me what’s going on?”

  The remaining agent stares impassively at the President, then steps closer to him, “Sir, I strongly suggest you comply with the alien’s demands.”

  “Or what?” scoffs the President brazenly.

  “I have just received a report that the national power grid is shutting down, making our current position untenable, and you, sir, constitute a risk to this nation’s security.”

  The President puts a hand to his head where a dull throbbing pulses, he wouldn’t, would he? He stares at the impassive man standing before him, he is sworn to protect me, NO! The blood drains from the President’s face, he is sworn to defend the Constitution from all enemies, foreign and domestic… and domestic. His face twitches again, his hands begin to shake as he realizes that he may well about to be, ‘voted out of office.’ Another mysterious heart attack, sweat builds under his armpits, “I will comply,” he says too quickly, and too loudly. His frightened tone echoes around the room.

  The agent tilts his head, as if surprised, “Yes Sir, I shall pass on the message.” He quietly speaks into his tiny mic, then returns to the doorway, just as the rest of his colleagues return to take their positions.

  The President stares uneasily at the men assigned to protect him. They are here to protect this nation, more than they are to protect me.

  Chapter Six - Power Shift

  Location:

  Starship Terran

  Space Station Unity

  Earth orbit

  George stands on the bridge next to Joe and Cindy, his wife and son occupy nearby seats. All signs of damage have been erased, but not the memory of those that died, particularly Andrew’s death. Joe stares at his friend’s empty chair, it just won’t be the same with you gone, old mate.

  Cindy stares at her old command chair, then asks George warily, “Are you sure? The Regent was very specific?”

  George smiles, “The command chair is your rightful place. Mine is in my suit.” He puts a supportive hand on Joe’s shoulder and says, “Which I understand you hid somewhere.”

  Joe breaks from his melancholy, “Yes... yes, I sealed your room.” He steps to his old console, and in seconds, has the armor plating sliding back away from George’s doorway.

  Cindy sits in the command chair, then smiles, “Thank you George. I must say I was very surprised when my boss said there was a shuttle waiting for me. I didn’t think for one second I was coming here.”

  George grins, “Well if this is going to be my ship, then I want people I trust here.” He smiles at Cindy and Joe, “I can only imagine the uproar getting Peter back will cause; he is a Russian spy after all.”

  Joe smiles at the thought, “Do you think he and Emma will come?”

  George grins, “Emma will have the opportunity to hand pick whoever she wants for the return to New Earth.” He places his hands on his hips as he boldly states, “We’re going to set up a colony on the planet.”

  Cindy’s eyebrows raise up as she asks, “Your idea?”

  George shakes his head, “Nope, but the spaceship Liberty is almost built, and I would rather our group be in charge of the settlement, instead of the alternatives.”

  Cindy nods her head, understanding exactly what he means. She frowns as a disturbing thought comes to mind, “What about Jie’s spacecraft. He is clearly not afraid to use weapons of mass destruction.”

  George sighs, “Yes, I have been thinking of what to do about that, and have an idea I want to run by the bridge crew when they all get here.”

  Joe turns to George, “All? Who else is coming back?”

  George grins heartily, “All our old friends.” He chuckles a little as he continues, “You should have seen the faces of the two Presidents, when I told them who I wanted on board.”

  Joe glances back at his console, then stares vacantly at Andrew’s old chair for a moment. “I take it John will be our pilot? He is the one who picked me up.”

  Cindy nods as she replies, “Yes,” she hesitates for
a second, then says with care, “I don’t want to rub any salt in your wounds Joe, but you should take Andrew’s old chair.” She gazes at the four control centers in front of her command chair, then adds, “I want John on the left, you next to him, then Peter, with Emma taking the last chair.”

  George tilts his head while he considers her choices, John piloting, Joe checking on internal systems, Peter for general observations, with Emma being in charge of ship wide environmental systems, and planetary studies.

  Joe stares at Andrew’s old chair for a few seconds, then nods, “It makes sense.” Something about his control panel suddenly feels out of place. He quickly spins back to look at it, “Geeze, we have twenty-seven percent power!” In his distracted state, he totally failed to notice the abundance of energy.

  At that moment, Peter steps onto the bridge, with a disgruntled Emma in tow. He is also not too happy, and scowls at George, “How the blazes did you find us?”

  George motions a hand to Joe, who replies with pride, “We tracked you by your Kord implant.”

  Peter gulps, “In the Siberian wastelands! Hmm, I actually forgot about that thing.” He rubs behind his ear absentmindedly, feeling for the slight bump under his skin.

  Emma plants her hands on her hips as she says with annoyance, “And I suppose I was just a lucky bonus?”

  Cindy smiles warmly, “Yes you are, and do we have a proposal for you!”

  Emma frowns in confusion, then narrows her eyes. She replies with defiance, “I am NOT going anywhere on this ship, and that’s final!”

  Peter remains impassive at her outburst, he is rather curious about what is going on.

  Cindy continues to smile, “Let’s wait ‘till everyone is back, then we can have a group discussion.”

  Emma looks at Peter and pouts, “I am not going...” she stops talking and frowns when she notices his energized appearance, “…anywhere,” she finishes quietly and doubtfully.

  George takes a deep breath. “Okay, Cindy the ship is yours. I am going to check on my suit.” He makes his way to his old room, then enters it. There against the wall, is his Gamin bodysuit. He steps backward into it, and watches as the suit closes around him. The familiar kaleidoscope of colors wash over him. He activates the suit’s absorption tool, then cuts a hole in the wall of his room. Opening his suit and stepping out, he retrieves the translator given to him so long ago by Sharz. He places it into his ear, then quickly turns at a sound.

  Joe stands at the doorway, he is holding the engine calibration tablet and the artificial Gamin hand required to access the room. Joe looks past George’s suit at the hole in the wall, and says, “Secrets within secrets, mate.”

  George grins, “Thank you for keeping my suit safe.” His words are genuine and heartfelt.

  George suddenly hears a familiar voice in his ear, “Don’t let me down George, I have staked my entire reputation on you, as has the Regent. A thing never done before in our history.” George listens, then stops cold as Sharz’s words continue, he holds a hand up to stop Joe from leaving.

  Minutes later, the message has run its course. George looks up and studies Joe quite intently before he says with trepidation, “I have access to the Gamin satellite grid, full access.”

  Joe frowns in confusion, “Okay mate, and that means what exactly?” he asks, hesitantly.

  George feels light headed by the responsibility he has been handed, “I can shut down Earth’s power grid, activate the satellite’s weapons, and more. This is too much control for one person.”

  Joe walks up to George, “If it means anything to you, I trust you,” and he means it. He then turns his head to gaze out the doorway, “I don’t think anyone else has to know though.”

  Location:

  Oil Rig Zeus

  North Sea

  Patrick grips the slippery pipe with his greasy gloves, “Hurry up will ya, I can’t hold this thing forever.”

  An oil rigger, covered in thick oil from head to toe, kneels next to Patrick. The oil soaked man is putting everything he has into sealing the clamp.

  A loud voice calls from an overhead catwalk, “Get that damn thing shut off, we don’t have time to play boys.”

  Patrick glances up at the voice and grins cheekily, “We’re on it...” He stops midsentence, his grin fades into uneasiness as he notices a shuttle landing. Its gravity drive causing what looks like a heat shimmer beneath it.

  A gout of oil suddenly shoots upward, soaking both men completely. As the oil blasts upward, Patrick’s fingers begin to slip. A solid clunk runs through the pipe just as his hands lose their grip. The spurting oil instantly reduces to a mere dribble.

  The man at Patrick’s feet shouts out excitedly, “Got it!”

  The rig’s foreman calls down from the catwalk once again, “Patrick, I think they’re here for you,” he motions a thumb at the shuttle.

  Patrick removes his gloves and helmet, then shakes his head, slopping thick oil onto the deck, “Well, I’m gonna take a shower first.”

  Fifteen minutes later, a clean Patrick enters the rig’s main stateroom. His fresh shirt and pants are testimony to the effectiveness of his efforts. A few of the other workers are in the room, including his foreman.

  Patrick runs his gaze over everyone, he stops at John and stares at him with a hard expression, “What do you want?”

  John smiles, and holds out his hand. Patrick sighs, then shakes the offered hand. He adds with bitterness, “The bastards sold me out.”

  John nods, “We were all sold out. But do I have a surprise for you.”

  Patrick replies with disgust, “I am not helping them again.” He mutters some obscenities that impress some of the other riggers.

  George steps into the room, “You won’t be working for them. You will be working with us.”

  Patrick glances warily from John to George, being forced to give up his bodysuit cold turkey was an experience he will never forget. He rubs his chin thoughtfully as he asks, “Who is us?”

  George walks toward Patrick, a smile lights up on his face when he can see that Patrick is breaking, “We, as in Cindy, John, Joe, and almost the whole crowd.” George can see that Patrick does not quite get what he means, so he adds, “The Terran is ours, by order of Regent Voknor.”

  Patrick’s jaw drops in shock, “The ship is yours?”

  George slaps Patrick on the back, “No, it’s ours! You coming?”

  “When?” Patrick replies, momentarily stunned.

  “Now!” George smiles as he adds news that only he and Patrick could fully be thankful for, “Your suit is on the Terran, and is being charged as we speak.”

  Patrick is dumfounded, “The suit will be mine again?”

  George grins, “Till the day you die, my friend.”

  The rig’s foreman glances warily around, this was not what he had expected to happen, “Hey, you leave now, and you breach your contract, Mister.”

  Patrick stares back at his boss, grins, then says, “Send me the bill!”

  We’re Back

  George smiles widely at the assembled group, his friends. He mentally checks everyone off as his eyes wander around the bridge, Cindy, John, Joe, Peter, Emma, Radclyf, Hayato, and Patrick. Lisa and Johnny are sitting quietly in chairs on the opposite side of the bridge. I would much rather Cindy run this, he thinks.

  George takes a deep breath, then begins. “Okay folks, here it is in a nut shell. Regent Voknor has said this is our ship, and that we should use it for humanity’s peaceful expansion.” He pauses, thinking, well that’s my interpretation anyway. His voice carries a more serious overtone as he continues on, “But the coalition is almost ready to launch their own vessel. Add the unknown element of the rogue Chinese ship, captained by a ‘Commander Jie’, and we find ourselves facing a number of problems.”

  George runs his gaze over everyone, and is pleased to see that he has their undivided attention. He continues boldly, “We have to escort the colony ship, Liberty, to New Earth, where Emma should be in c
ontrol of establishing the settlement.”

  George lifts a hand before anyone, especially Emma, can respond, “I also think we should consider having General Walker as the military liaison on New Earth.”

  The room remains dead quiet, except for the almost imperceptible whir of the life support systems.

  Finally Cindy responds, “Why Walker?” she asks curiously, her eyes narrowing.

  George nods, acknowledging her question, “Well for starters, he has a kind heart, and secondly, he is an American.”

  George grins broadly, but he can see that the statement has gone over everyone’s heads. With a fading smile he adds, “How can the American President deny our request that General Walker be in charge of the colony’s defenses?” He raises his eyebrows in feigned innocence, “There is the matter of the Chinese ship that’s out there, somewhere.”

  Cindy replies, “You don’t think that ship is going anywhere near New Earth, do you?”

  George says with conviction, “Not for one second.” He points at the stars sparkling on the screen before them, and adds, “Why would they go where we can find them when they have so many other choices?”

  Emma speaks up, “Hey, can’t we just search for that ship of his?”

  Joe shakes his head, “It would be easier to find one particular grain of sand on a beach.”

  Emma frowns in annoyance at his analogy, “Why do you say that? I know space is vast!” She adds, slightly miffed at Joe’s tone.

  Joe shifts in his chair, thinking, oops, did not mean to offend her. He answers warmly, “Because a beach has a defined area, with a finite amount of sand, while space...” his voice trails off as he gazes at the screen. With concern building in his voice, he adds, “Well, we don’t even know its limits, and that rogue ship could be anywhere.”

  George glances at Cindy with pleading eyes, now that he has said his piece, he really hopes she takes charge of the group.

  Cindy catches George’s expression, and offers him a slight nod. Stepping forward, she says firmly. “Okay folks, let’s tackle these issues one at a time!” She motions to Emma and asks pointedly, “Are you willing to oversee the establishment of the colony?”