Rapid fire exchanged between Oosapeth’s fleet and Qudor’s grounded spacecraft. This would be the first exchange of many over the coming years. Qudor knew he was in a battle; taking control of his home planet would be at a cost.
Oosapeth was outnumbered, as Qudor’s fleet were part grounded but also actively in flight.
‘Cover. I’m going in for Dane,’ ordered Oosapeth.
‘Copy,’ the reply.
Dane had taken cover behind the stone slab he had been so unceremoniously shackled to earlier; the laser shots were coming thick and fast as Qudor made away with Annaluce. Dane looked to the skies, recognised Oosapeth in the Undarthian ship and screamed to make haste, desperate to halt Qudor’s progress. Above, a full battle developed between Qudor’s fleet and Oosapeth’s warriors; each had full electromagnetic defence shields and both opponents were of the highest calibre when it came to battle.
Oosapeth was low, hovering above the stone slab, desperately holding off aggressive fire from Qudor’s craft. The lower belly of the spacecraft opened and his dorker jettisoned from his ship. Dane remained low, shielded by the stone slab. The dorker weaved whilst Oosapeth protected his position, the dorker’s shield would offer added cover against stray laser fire. It lowered behind the slab and Dane instinctively mounted.
‘Annaluce!’ shouted Dane. ‘Annaluce!’ Pointing in the direction of Qudor, now only metres away from the safety of his craft, Oosapeth had given precise instructions to the rider to rescue Dane and head straight back, without distraction.
Qudor had his victim, who would know the extent of the horrors he might inflict. With Dane safely in the craft he demanded that they pursue the evil midget.
‘Dane, we have to retreat, re-group!’ shouted Oosapeth.
‘He will kill her, feed her to his monstrous pets,’ said Dane.
‘Better that Annaluce lives for the moment than killed in battle. He will use her as bait and hope that you let down your guard. An emotional warrior is a weak warrior. I don’t need to tell you that.’
Dane sat at the controls with Oosapeth, knowing he was right. He hated this weakness but the announcement that she might be carrying his offspring disorientated Dane, scrambled his thoughts and displaced his warrior discipline. If Dane was to save Annaluce he needed to refocus.
‘Where are we heading?’ asked Dane.
‘To the only hideout I have that hasn’t been destroyed − my ice caves in Antarctica, not far from these islands, but untraceable. I have always kept a close watch on your caves and I never trusted him so it was necessary to have a base close to Daxzus. We needed easy access from a base should we need to dispose of him. As it transpired, someone else did the job for us.’
‘What about the fleet in orbit? We can’t hide the whole fleet?’
‘We will organise the strategy from the ice caves. The game has changed; it has been reduced to a battle on the ground. We do not have the warrior numbers to tackle their grotesque monsters annihilating this planet’s native race.’
‘I need a fleet. Zarduzian could offer a solution,’ suggested Dane.
‘Let’s get to safety first and set the plan later,’ replied Oosapeth.
CHAPTER 5
MULTI PROBABILITY FACTOR
The emergency meeting at the Time Capsule Centre was tense. The Council of the Light would be expecting the safe return of Colonel Patterson; sight of supporting data that indicated he had travelled back in time to an agreed, specified date, in order to gather evidence to assist a challenge to those aliens claiming the right to planet Earth. No such data was available and Colonel Patterson was dead, yet in less than 12 hours, at precisely 12pm noon on 24th February 2218, serious questions would be asked by the council.
The meeting was highly confidential. The boardroom at the centre was highly technological, a room equipped to deal with the new time capsule, a revolutionary piece of kit that could prove either advantageous or, placed in the wrong hands, devastating.
Those attending included Senator Lace Adams, Dr Olask Laderman, Commander Lucas (who preferred to be addressed as Commander), Klade and Maxius the senior military officials, as well as several time capsule engineers, particularly Samuel Parker, who, still disturbed by the murder of his two fellow engineers, was nonetheless vital if they were to avoid the admonishment of the Council of the Light.
The senator opened the discussion.
‘I would like to acknowledge those present at this meeting. I hope I need not have to remind everyone of the sensitivity and secrecy of what we are about to discuss?’
Nods all around the room indicated a reluctant acceptance of the severity. The Colonel looked stern − adorned in his official army uniform reflecting his standing only added to his aggressive demeanour. Samuel’s attire reflected his position, a white garment, fire-proof but so obviously befitting of an engineer. The senator, more formally dressed, looked sheepishly out of kilter.
‘We are all perfectly aware, senator,’ replied Dr Laderman sarcastically. ‘Can we just get on with it?’
‘You are supposed to be Chief of Operations, Doctor,’ said the Colonel. ‘Your sarcasm is rather ironic as it is your fault that the administration of this time travel expedition failed. You clearly breached the security checks.’
‘Gentlemen, gentlemen,’ said the senator. ‘Proportioning blame at this late stage will do us no good. We need to resolve this problem and it will take the co-operation of everyone. Can we please move on to the matter in hand?’
The Colonel nodded in acceptance and Dr Laderman similarly obliged.
‘So, we have established the date Robert Stave chose to travel back to and we know the destination. We know he is part of the rebel faction, but I do not believe they had any part in this misdemeanour. Samuel, what do we know about the consequences if the events of the past are altered?’
‘Unfortunately, not that much,’ replied Samuel. ‘If Robert Stave manages to significantly alter the events of the past that does not necessarily mean a warp of our timeline.’
‘An alternate universe, you mean?’ asked Klade.
‘Precisely that, an alternate universe.’
‘So, let me get this straight. Robert Stave alters events in the past and creates a duplicate of the universe where events pan out differently?’ asked the senator.
‘That’s one theory,’ replied Samuel. ‘Of course, the other theory is far more worrying. The Council of the Light forbid any meddling with events of the past for a reason and that is to ensure that we do not change the events of the present. What we don’t know is, if Robert Stave changes an event in the past whether that will alter our present. More to the point, how will it change the present? Will persons, who should not exist as a result of those changes, simply vanish from reality?’
‘What if we send someone back to the exact date and time of Robert’s time travel destination, arm them so they can take him out, then return back to the present?’ asked the senator.
‘Not a good idea,’ said Dr Laderman. ‘That would erase Robert Stave from the present. It might distort the present. His non-existence would mean he wasn’t born. His family line would be brought into disarray. Plus, we know he is armed. If he kills whomever we send back then we have the same problem. At all costs, Robert Stave must not be killed. He has to return back to the present unscathed.’
‘How do we know that our current timeline of existence hasn’t already factored in Robert Stave’s travel back in time?’ asked the senator.
‘It’s the multiple probability factor,’ said Samuel. ‘The Council of the Light fear interference with the past and the possibility of multiple beings travelling back in time that might result in the multiple probability factor.’
‘Which is?’ asked the Colonel who expressed a look that suggested he considered all of this as intellectual nonsense.
‘The multi-probability factor is a time distortion of the present, the here and now. There is a case that any distortion of the past means multiple existence in the p
resent. Rather than destroy people in the present who perhaps wouldn’t have existed due to radical changes in the past, the suggestion is that different versions of their self, exist simultaneously,’ replied Samuel.
The silence in the room was deafening as the personnel grappled with this theory.
‘But that only affects the human existence if the time travel is within the period of our existence,’ said the senator. ‘Suppose the alien wars had never existed. What do we know about the early Earth inhabitants?’ asked the senator thinking out loud. ‘We know Qudor Volkan stole the portal amplifier. We assume that is why Robert Stave is trying to change that event. What if Qudor Volkan never existed?’
‘Interesting,’ said Dr Laderman. ‘So, without the exodus from planet Earth, Qudor Volkan would not have caused the alien wars. That means Robert Stave would not have travelled back in time.’
‘Precisely,’ agreed the senator. ‘Didn’t I read somewhere that the civilisation who fled and reached Olympiana were themselves potentially propagated?’
Klade knew this theory well.
‘There is an archive timeline. The Council of the Light allows freedom of information. Who has access to the database of the council? If we can find the date of the propagation we might be able to thwart it. No early Earth civilisation, no exodus, no alien wars and certainly no Drayzaks. It shouldn’t interfere with the human timeline, but it might prevent Robert Stave from travelling back in time.’
The plan was unfolding. It seemed more ridiculous by the minute; these were desperate measures needed to correct a potentially devastating event, a multi-probability world.
‘That’s like double jeopardy. Robert Stave has already travelled back in time. To go even further back in order to change the event he has travelled back to seems illogical,’ said Dr Laderman. ‘Anyway, all this is unproven. The Council of the Light are considering outlawing time travel for this very kind of conundrum.’
‘We have two time machines left. Without permission from the Council of the Light we technically cannot use them. If we can’t be trusted then we might lose our case to evict the immigrant aliens. However, in order to rectify our mistake, I suggest we travel back to the day before Robert Stave, the 22nd February 2018. We know he will be in the hangar at Area 51. We send someone with a tranquiliser gun to shoot Robert as he emerges from the time capsule, put him back in the time capsule and send him home. The second capsule also returns. Both have to return before noon tomorrow,’ said the senator.
‘This time travel is confusing,’ said Maxius. ‘Think I’ll stick to killing Drayzaks.’
‘Who’s volunteering?’ asked the senator, pretty much ignoring Maxius’ comment.
The tension around the room was evident. Not a word. The first man to utter a word could possibly be chosen so a deathly silence fell upon the group. The decision as to who would be sent, however, was obvious. A military operative had to make the perilous journey, risk being burnt alive in the time capsule and potentially risk the plight of the native species on Earth and its right to take back control of the planet.
‘Hell, it has to be me,’ said Klade, much to the relief of the rest of the room.
‘Samuel, set up one of the capsules. Maxius, you arm Klade with sufficient fire power to defend himself against a possible attack if he is discovered at Area 51 − more importantly, a tranquiliser. Set the return time to 9 o-clock in the morning. That’s less than eight hours from now, so we have little time. We can only hope and pray, gentlemen,’ demanded the senator.
Samuel and Klade headed towards the time capsule, both sombre, both concerned.
CHAPTER 6
EARTH CALL
The date of 25th February 2018 was the date the whole world witnessed the start of a mass alien invasion. Drayzaks had been introduced to society with devastating consequences: the world’s military might were defenceless against far superior alien fire power; the technological infrastructure upon which the human race relied now reduced to an irrelevance and the nuclear weapons we so steadfastly based our ability to defend ourselves − sabotaged as easily as confiscating a child’s ice cream.
Anarchy, looting and abductions were just a few of the imponderables to quantify on such a mass scale. Governments reduced to a useless bunch of irrelevant officials, powerless to protect its people. The human race had awoken to the nightmare that ‘we are not alone’ but the invasion was hostile; these aliens were not here in peace, they were here to occupy.
Normal communication had been scrambled by the invaders − without basic communication our civilisation simply could not function. All over the world the people cried out for help and no one was listening.
The military were making some headway to descramble the interference to their communication systems. International military networks checked the status of the invasion and brave decisions were to be made; either try to amass an aerial retaliation, albeit without their most powerful defence − nuclear weapons, or tackle the onslaught of the deathly Drayzaks on the ground.
To assemble a military attack against these monsters meant being sitting ducks. Whatever the plan, whichever military or aerial hardware was adopted it was inevitably going to meet with far superior opposition. Our civilisation was being wiped out before our very eyes and all we could do was watch.
Most of the world’s military elite, government officials, presidents or government ministers were securely housed in bunkers deep beneath the carnage occurring on the surface.
The United States’ president slumped in his presidential chair, his prime position in the military room now irrelevant. His best advisors, military generals as well as NASA officials, contemplated. A plan was needed. The unprecedented global disaster, unfolding, tested their every resolve. Everyone knew this was checkmate and they were all merely going through the formality of how to surrender with the least collateral damage.
A call came through on an unknown network. It was Scott McCabe. James Eaton was busy trying to navigate Oosapeth towards the rescue of Dane Vhastek and McCabe had taken it upon himself to try to make communication via the alien technology, at his disposal, to locate a fellow human who could still receive any form of contact.
‘This is Scott McCabe, repeat − Scott McCabe. Do you read?’
A military operative in the bunker beneath the White House picked up the signal. Placing one headphone to his right ear he acknowledged the message whilst simultaneously shouting across the communication room to ‘get the President’.
‘We read you loud and clear, Scott,’ replied the military operative. ‘What is your position?’
‘Outside of your jurisdiction, that’s for sure,’ replied Scott. ‘We have friendly back-up, repeat − friendly back-up.’
‘Hold your position, the president wishes to speak,’ said the operative, clearly happy to pass the baton.
‘McCabe, this is the president. We’re in trouble.’
‘We can see. The monsters inflicted on our people are called Drayzaks. The perpetrator is one Qudor Volkan. Unsavoury doesn’t begin to describe this alien. We have back-up, alien back-up,’ Scott repeated.
‘Where are you?’ asked the president.
‘We have an extensive fleet; we are currently positioned in the outer atmosphere. We have a thousand-strong fleet of alien craft, friendly alien craft.’
‘That’s the best news I have heard this millennium. What’s your plan?’
‘Beat these bastards, Mr President,’ replied Scott.
Laughter erupted throughout the bunker. A sense of humour in adversity is what sets humans aside. Qudor Volkan had zilch when it came to humour. There was hope yet.
‘What of Mr Eaton, Miss Laurent and company?’ asked the president.
‘All available, Sir, but we lost Kosuke,’ said Scott. The shakiness in his voice demonstrated the pain, the loss.
‘We need a secure line. Have you contacted the Russians, Chinese, the Europeans or anyone?’
‘Negative, Mr President. Do you have a
n international connection to get word out?’ asked Scott.
The president looked around the room for assistance. Connections were fraught. Qudor was continually scrambling networks whilst the Drayzaks wreaked havoc and took control. The alien superiority was evident.
‘Struggling, Mr President,’ was the reply from an army commander. The president was not too sure who replied, such was the confusion in the bunker.
‘Scott, if we send secure coordinates, are you able to make contact and get the word out?’ asked the president.
‘Send them through and we’ll get the word out. This looks like a long battle, Mr President. We are setting up a base in Antarctica. It’s the Trollozyte base. I won’t confuse you with the details; we are trying to set up a secure line, which cannot be scrambled by Qudor. We need to co-ordinate, get our armed forces back in the battle. From our viewpoint in orbit the world is in a monumental battle. The survival of our species is in great danger.’
‘Just how much of a threat are these Drayzaks, Scott?’
‘Think part-dragon, part-cannibal. As bad as it gets, Mr President,’ replied Scott. He almost didn’t want to admit to the most powerful man on the planet that what they could offer in defence as a species was futile.
CHAPTER 7
LARQUISTON CONFERENCE
Omalius Sousa was joined by 36 other delegates; one delegate for each of the other capitals on Zarduzian. An extraordinary meeting had been arranged in Larquiston, hastily, following the kidnap of Daxzus and Annaluce.
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