“Okay,” said Carrie to herself. “There she is. Now what the hell happened?” She allowed the critical scientist voice to take over. “Has to be an array malfunction,” she said. “Computer, when was Gamma radiation detected?”
The viewing chamber began to speed the image up, then it stopped. The Earth’s rotation returned to its normal smooth self. Then a bright flash of light made Carrie place her hand over her eyes. After a few seconds she looked at the viewing chamber in time to see the Earth exploding from the inside out. Its atmosphere bleeding out into space as the detonation from its centre engulfed the entire globe in a hail of fire and light. It had happened so quickly. Chunks of rock floated outwards towards the edges of the viewing chamber. Carrie’s mouth remained wide open. Her lips were dry.
“My God!” she said. “Doctor Tyrell!” she screamed at the empty lab. No answer. The debris field filled the viewing chamber. She leapt from the seat and ran towards the door of the main lab. It hissed open and there stood Doctor Tyrell. He looked down at her. His eyes were red and crazed. He looked at Carrie and then up at the viewing chamber.
“Gamma Explosion detected,” repeated the female voice.
“Doctor!” she said, pointing to the viewing chamber.
“I know, Carrie,” he said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Remain calm,” Tyrell said with a firm and almost surreal tone to his voice. “Come with me.” He turned her back towards the diagnostic tables.
“Computer, pause viewer and discontinue alert,” he said assertively. The alarm stopped and all went silent. He turned to Carrie. “Sit down, Carrie,” he said gently. Carrie began to shake but obeyed him.
Tyrell turned and walked over to one of the diagnostic tables and started punching in commands. Carrie sensed something from him. It was faint, but the more she opened herself up to it the stronger it got. For a moment, she thought it was excitement. But she dismissed it as her imagination. His adrenalin was probably playing havoc with his emotional state. Something in Tyrell’s eyes didn’t sit right with her. She looked back at the now empty viewing chamber. The room was silent. Only the chirps of the computers filled the void. Tyrell sat down and looked over at Carrie.
“What just happened, Doctor Tyrell?” she asked. Tyrell looked at the empty viewing chamber.
“Too early to tell, but it looks like some sort of Gamma radiation. The entire planet has broken up.” He paused. “Your father is on his way here now. In the meantime I am going to conduct some more observations to see if I can ascertain what we’re dealing with.” He turned back to his diagnostics display and began sifting through the data being transmitted by the array. Carrie closed her eyes and, for a moment, she thought she could hear the faint sound of screams.
Phobos Orbit
Gamma Event T minus seventeen minutes
Jerome Young stopped the manoeuvring jets on his harness and positioned himself just over the equator of the small moon. There, he hung weightless in emptiness and stared down at the surface of Phobos. His EVA had lasted longer than he had scheduled but it had been a particularly beautiful view of The Agathon dry dock and he wanted to watch the construction for a while. Besides, it was the first moment he had had to himself in over two weeks. The only sound was his own breath inside the faceplate of his helmet.
“Young to orbital,” he said into his comms.
“Orbital here, go ahead, Mr. Young,” came the swift response of a young, male voice.
“Patch up the signal to my comms, will you?” he said.
“Patching now, sir,” the young voice said. The silence in his helmet was replaced by the steady rhythmic clicks and harmonies of the signal. He closed his eyes and listened. He allowed himself to drift in the emptiness, as the sound reverberated through his mind. Maybe this time he would crack it. After all, true inspiration came when one was totally isolated from distraction. His father had never cared for signals from other worlds. A ruthless and violent man, he had preached to Young that power was the only true constant in the Universe.
“One either has power or one is a slave. There is no in between.” Young had listened and had learned to appreciate what his father had meant, but had always looked to the signal.
The signal. What good was power when the Universe continued to perplex the mind? Power without knowledge haunted him. When his father died the plans for the orbital platform on Phobos went ahead with the full resources of the company. Protected by Jycorp Military personnel and its pitfalls. It was hard for Young to find privacy anymore. Even out here, floating above the surface of Phobos, he had a tracking detail of three security personnel a half a kilometre away in case he got into difficulty. He loved the view from this angle of the Monolith. Almost perfectly perpendicular to the top surface of the mirrored structure. He had often viewed that section as the antennae cluster, even though no real evidence existed to support it. He had thought that if he stood directly on top of it, then the signal would flow though his body and give him the means to decipher it. He stretched his arms out and closed his eyes to listen. His comms chirped.
“Mr. Young, we have an incoming transmission from the chancellor,” said a male voice. Young’s heart quickened. The title of chancellor wasn’t quite befitting the beauty of Sienna Clark, whom Young had appointed to the position less than a year earlier. As head of state to the planet, her elegance was matched only by her fierce intellect and legendary ruthlessness. Yet, her charm and humour was infectious. They had shared an evening of passion, unbeknownst to the world, after her inauguration dinner.
“Put it through up here, Lieutenant,” he replied. The comms chirped again
“Jerome, this is the chancellor, I hope I am not interrupting you?” said an assertive, female voice. Young smiled in his breathing plate.
“Not at all. I’m actually looking at you right now.” He flicked his eye up to Earth. “What can I do for you on this fine summer’s day?” He redirected his manoeuvring jets and began his descent onto the surface of Phobos.
“Well, I normally wouldn’t disturb you when you’re out ‘jogging’, but our listening post on the surface of Mars relayed a signal change from the Monolith a few moments ago. I have contacted Doctor Tyrell and also advised our listening posts here on planet to advise. Have you had the same readings?” The surface of the moon grew closer as Young slowed his descent towards the Monolith. He hadn’t heard anything from either orbital platforms, but that wasn’t surprising, as he had left strict instructions not to be disturbed.
“I haven’t checked in yet, Sienna, but I’ll do so now. I’m on my way to the surface as we speak. I’ll link up when I’m inside the main hangar bay in thirty minutes. Any idea what the change signifies?” His curiosity had made him lower his guard and his tone towards the chancellor had now become very familiar. She snapped him back to reality.
“Please do, Mr. Young. I will speak to you then.” The penny dropped.
“Of course, Chancellor. Young out.” His comm snapped closed and there was again silence.
A change in the frequency was something that had happened on only a handful of occasions. It usually signified a galactic event like a supernova or black hole that had interfered with the data stream. He watched the Monolith, as it grew closer. His escort followed his descent on the surface of the moon. It was a manoeuvre his detail had not been fond of. His atmo suit’s thrusters were automatically programmed to bring him to the surface with relative ease, but there was always a little nervousness in case they failed.
He had programmed them to bring his descent perpendicular to the edge of the Monolith, so that he could almost touch it on the way down. Few humans were able to get this close. The bases and power cables that surrounded the perimeter glowed neon blue. The light from the main hangar deck was now tracking him. As the Monolith passed him by, he gazed at the unmarked surface. His reflection gazed back as it watched him fall towards the surface. For a moment, he thought it ha
d smiled at him. He dismissed the illusion and continued downward towards the base of the structure. His jets fired and he came into a soft and controlled landing. He faced the Monolith and reached out the palm of his hand, touching its smooth surface. His mirrored hand met its reflection. His comm chirped.
“Mr. Young, main hangar is prepped for your arrival. I will see you inside,” said a male voice, much older than his.
“Good to see you, Tosh, be two minutes. Young out.” His only true companion out here, Doctor Daniel Tosh, was a physicist in his early seventies. In need of genome treatment and paralysed from birth due to a severed spinal column, Tosh had been a pioneer in both FTL drive technology and interstellar communication systems technology. With a dry wit and love of fine dining, he was often the honoured guest at Young’s table. They would debate morality issues, democracy, and war, but above all else the alien life forms responsible for the signal and the Monolith.
Getting Tosh to Phobos had not been easy. He had failed all medical criteria and Young had to outfit the transport carrier with specialised medical equipment just for the trip. He needed him though. He had been instrumental in the analysis of ‘The Black’, which had proven lethal and elusive on the surface of Mars. He and Tyrell were alike, in that they both liked to work alone. He had always known that great minds always sought isolation. He made his way over the surface of the moon towards the large black structure to the north. He gave his jets a light tap, bringing his feet gently onto the surface of the moon. Behind him his security detail followed suit. As he approached the front of a large hangar, the main doors hissed open. He glanced back at his detail that was following close behind.
“Come on, fellas, last one in is a rotten egg.”
The two Marines quickened their step, which was not easy in this low gravity. They entered the hangar door and waited while it sealed slowly behind them. Atmosphere filled the entrance and they removed their breathers. Young revealed a thick head of greying hair and manicured but stubbled face. The inner door opened, revealing an overweight man in a floating wheelchair. A gift from Young that enabled its user to traverse any terrain with ease. The man in the chair wore a white faded shirt with the sleeves rolled almost up to his shoulder. A pair of glasses hung from a slightly torn breast pocket. His features were soft and he had an air of quiet confidence. He was holding a metal tool in one of his hands.
“Hello, Tosh, how ye been?” asked Young with a light slap on his shoulder. Tosh gave him a warm smile.
“I was doing just fine until this damn rock of yours went berserk a half hour ago.” They moved along a long white walled corridor, with many doors springing off to various labs. Tosh floated easily through the hall and kept pace with Young, who walked with purpose.
“What’s been happening?” he asked.
“Well, three minutes ago the subspace frequency went dead. Like totally dead. Kaput, for the first time in a century. We thought it was a wormhole or some other phenomenon, so we did what any good scientists do. We waited. Sure enough, it came back, but with a power and frequency we have never seen before. The signal is changing from transmission frequency to an energy pulse.” Young stopped in the hall and turned to Tosh.
“A what?” he said.
Tosh replied, “It’s an energy pulse. And it seems to be emitting Gamma radiation.” Young looked him in the eye and began walking quickly now.
“What is its focal point?” Young asked.
“It’s directed at Earth’s Pacific Ocean.”
Young moved quickly now down the hallway towards his destination. They reached another corridor and stepped onto a small gangway, which led to a lift. Young motioned to his security detail to remain behind. They stepped onto the gangway and began to descend. After several minutes the platform came to a stop, revealing an enormous array of machinery scattered throughout a technological sprawl of sensor arrays and holographic interfaced computers. Technicians were scurrying about and the floor area was buzzing with activity. Nobody seemed to notice the new arrivals. Young and Tosh headed over to one of the computer stations. A female technician was sifting through endless amounts of algorithmic code, which was spinning past her display.
“What’s the situation, Dana?” Tosh asked. The attractive girl turned her head and stood.
“Mr. Young, I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.” Young held up his hand.
“Nice to see you, how are things with the signal?” They sat together at the desk and all looked at the code.
“It started about a half hour ago. The Monolith started resonating a photonic pulse, originating from the Aristaeus system. The pulse is being directed at a focal point in the Pacific Ocean. It seems to be causing some sort of quantum fusion effect within the Earth’s core.”
Young looked at the data. then glanced at Tosh.
“What do you make of it, Tosh?”
“Looks like an attack,” Tosh replied.
Earth
Office of the Chancellor
New York City
Gamma event T minus nine minutes
Chancellor Sienna Clark’s day had begun as it usually did. She rose at five a.m. and went for her customary five K run around Central Park. It was a cold morning in New York. She had programmed the Holo-display for a brisk morning with the dew still fresh on the grass. She missed being able to run in the real outdoors, but being Chancellor had precluded such luxuries. The facsimile was impressive with the sounds of the morning metropolis emulated in almost perfect detail, from the smell of the freshly baked bread at the patisserie on East 60th Street to the sounds of the Holo-boards as they displayed Jycorp advertisements. She was a fit woman at forty-eight, with a strong frame and angular complexion. At five foot eleven, her presence was felt in a room long before she ever opened her mouth. Her confident and assured stride commanded social occasions with ease. Running was the only time she had to really process her thoughts. Tyrell had told her to wait while he analysed the data from the signal change that morning, which gave her a window to hit the bricks. It wasn’t to last as long as she had hoped, as a square viewer appeared overhead with her Chief of Staff, James Ryder, looking down at her. He never smiled and even though dressed impeccably he always looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks.
“Chancellor, sorry for disturbing you, I have Doctor Tyrell on the line,” he said, floating in mid-air.
“Put him through,” the out of breath chancellor replied. The image flickered and Tyrell appeared overhead.
“Hello, Chancellor. Thank you for being so patient. I have been running diagnostics and liaising with Doctor Tosh. There is a definite shift in the polarity and nature of the signal. Mr. Young is currently on an EVA. There is no definitive data as to the cause of the shift as of yet, but we do know that it is emitting Gamma radiation and that it is being directed at the Pacific Ocean.” She looked up at the doctor and tried to catch her breath.
“I will contact you when I have more.”
“Thank you, Doctor Tyrell. Keep me appraised.” The screen went blank. She turned and headed for the exit of the Holo-chamber. At one thousand meters tall the Jycorp headquarters was a formidable structure, modelled on the architecture of the Monolith with its mirrored surfaces reflecting the cityscape. The chancellor’s office was located on the top floor suite, with an impressive glass surround offering breath-taking views of the cityscape. She had positioned her white glass desk beside the east-facing wall to watch the sunrises. The spectacular bursts of light as they sliced through the skyscrapers in the morning were breath-taking. It made her feel almost godlike, watching the humbling beauty of the world.
She arrived at her office after a quick phone call to Young, who was out taking the views of Phobos. She sat at her desk and asked an aide to prepare her a cup of Jamaican coffee. Black with one sugar. She was often amused at how far human civilisation had come on the back of beans. It was a wonder that nature had not incorporate
d caffeine into the human genome through some sort of Darwinian adaptation. She sat at her desk and started looking through the communiqués of the morning. Her chief of staff was always her first call in the morning and he usually joined her when she arrived at the office. She was early today so took advantage of the quiet moment she had to catch up on the latest developments. The signal shift would probably take up a significant amount of time today, so she quickly sifted through the council’s manifest to see if there was anything she could bump until later in the day or tomorrow. She was scheduled to speak to Commander Barrington regarding The Agathon project later in the day. The FTL ship orbiting Mars was nearing its completion and was only twenty months away from its first test flight. A few minutes later, the door chimed. James Ryder entered and nodded to the chancellor a good morning.
“Quite the morning, eh, Jim?” she said with a grin.
“Yes, Chancellor,” he said sombrely. “I don’t like what I see on Phobos.”
The chancellor smiled. “Jim, the damn thing has been on there for a hundred years. I think if it was a hostile move they would have done it by now, no? Let’s just wait for Tosh to get to grips with it and take it from there.” Ryder’s usual furrowed brow and pit bull-like appearance told her otherwise.
“In the event of any hostile action, we need to consider the evacuation protocol. I suggest preparing a number of drills over the next twelve hours. As you know, your executive shuttle pod is manned twenty-four hours a day, but I would like to go over some scenarios with you so that we can cut our response times.”
The chancellor’s expression began to change to one of frustration. She hated this area of her position and she didn’t like to be handled, but her regard for Ryder won out and she nodded her head in reluctance.
“Okay, Jim, but let me finish my coffee first, all right?” Ryder acknowledged and handed her a briefing labelled ‘Agathon Project Code Black. Security Clearance Only’. The sun was streaming in through the window as one of the chancellor’s assistants laid a tray of steaming coffee on the table.
The Agathon: Book One Page 3
