by Mark Wandrey
“I hope not. You do know it has three speeds, right?”
“No, I didn’t know that. What speed is it set for now?”
“Two,” he told her. Minu shuddered as she turned to walk toward the command center. She wondered why it wasn’t set for a slower speed. Wouldn’t it be easier on the equipment? Then she tried to imagine what the fastest speed must be like. She gave up after deciding it probably wasn’t survivable for humans.
The bunker complex was not overly spacious. A geothermal tap provided all the power it could ever need from Bellatrix’s aging core. There was a small barracks, computer room, conference rooms, and the command center. She went to look around the command center, a round chamber about twenty meters across. Configurable fluid displays covered every centimeter of wall space, and workstations circled the area. In the center was a low podium where the Chosen in charge could sit. Around the podium were four more workstations for the leader’s assistants. During training, Minu had studied enough tactics to recognize a CIC when she saw one. The fully operational Combat Information Center was a valuable gift from the Tog.
Only five Chosen were in the CIC when she looked in. One sat at a central workstation, and four more sat at different stations around the outside. They were mission planners and defense coordinators, just enough to keep things running or call the alert. Live views along the walls displayed the world’s active portals. Though it was unlikely, as Bellatrix was such a backwater world, should an alien species infiltrate, the Chosen would know instantly, and they would respond as effectively as they could.
Minu left the CIC and continued down the hall to the offices. Most of the programmable signs on the office doors were blank or dimly lit, indicating they were unused or unoccupied. A few of the signs were brightly lit, and the occupants of those offices were inside working. Minu walked until she found the Mission Planning Department. Following the tradition of the Chosen, the sign on the door simply read, “Dram.” She smiled, then knocked once and tried the door knob. It turned in her hand, and she entered.
“Minu?” he said in his deep baritone voice.
“Yes, sir, reporting as ordered.”
“Come in, come in. Have a seat,” he offered, and she did. Like most of the offices, his was utilitarian. There was a desk with a chair, the former cluttered with tablets and hard copy printouts, two chairs for visitors, a couple of pictures hanging on the wall, and a single sickly plant in one corner. The office might have been three meters on a side. His massive black frame looked far too big to fit easily into his chair. Dram stood and shook her hand. “I’ve been reviewing your performance since graduation,” he said.
Minu felt a little worry but covered it up. “I hope you like what you saw,” she said. A good host, he waited for her to get comfortable, then offered her a drink. It was coffee from the southern hemisphere, and she accepted gratefully, pouring in several sugars and a healthy dollop of cream.
“I do, but I’m also a little disappointed.” Her hand froze halfway between the desk and her mouth, where she was blowing on her coffee to cool it. “I’m disappointed that I couldn’t get you into the Scouts instead of Command.” He laughed, and she breathed again, taking a sip of the rich brew.
“I’d like to say I was, too.”
“You’d be lying. I’d be very upset going into Scouts if my father had been a First.” She nodded. “Well, down to business. You’ve been getting mostly routine courier and messenger work. What do you think of it?”
“Boring,” she admitted. He nodded his head.
“Agreed, but it’s the bread and butter of our service to the Tog. They point, and we go. It can’t be all glamorous rescue missions or technology retrievals. You’ve been loaned to me for a mission that has a little more excitement.” He picked up a remote control and pressed a button. One wall was a floor-to-ceiling display like those in the CIC.
The wall displayed their star system, a tiny blue green Bellatrix spinning around its aging star. He pushed another button, and the view zoomed out to show the entire galaxy, then back in to show another system. “GBX49881 is the target world,” he said and pointed with the control. One of the planets in the system flashed obligingly. The G stood for sector G of the galaxy, which was all the way on the other side from their sector, A. B stood for a planet mostly suitable for humans. And X stood for a planet that no single species claimed. The number was its catalog number in the human’s database. Minu’s pulse began to quicken. This wasn’t some civilized world in the core; it was the frontier. “This will be your first mission to the frontier, so I want you to keep in mind the Rules of Engagement. You’ll be in command of a small team, and your mission is to retrieve a cache left behind by an earlier scout mission. That mission was led by your father, by the way.”
“Really?” she asked. Minu pulled out her computer to take notes.
“Yes. Chriso reported the world uninhabited and found a small, heavily picked over technology center. One of his many skills was finding what others missed.”
“Sir, can I ask a question that’s been bugging me?”
“Go ahead.”
“As long as the Concordia have been around, and as advanced as they are, why is junk still worth so much?”
“That’s a good question.” He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his chin. “We’ve been trying to figure that out for a while. Of course, you must remember that as a species, we’re like a puppy that hasn’t yet gone outdoors. We poke around, here and there, in backwater areas of the frontier. With about fifty thousand unclaimed worlds in our catalog, the chances of running into trouble aren’t high. But by staying just off the main road, we don’t find the really juicy stuff. Returning to your question, I have a theory.”
“I’d love to hear it.”
“Okay,” he shrugged and spread his massive hands. “I had help developing this theory. Do you know who my scout teacher was?” She shook her head. “It was Jovich.”
“Really, sir?”
“Best teacher I ever had. He’s been to more worlds than any other Chosen. He was the first to get a portal controller, and he constantly took teams off-world. He was so successful, his First gave him free rein. Under his instruction, I gained my knowledge of the galaxy, learned the ins and outs of the portal network, and stayed alive as long as I have.”
“He’s not that old; why did he retire from active service?”
Dram looked at her for a long moment, then sat up straight. “That’s a story for him to tell you. I’m digressing. On to the theory.” Minu nodded. “Jovich and I sat down one day over a table-load of empty mead bottles and started toying with some ideas. Our conclusions surprised even us.” Minu tried not to show the suspense she was feeling. Dram should be an actor, she thought. “The short of it is, we believe the Concordian Empire is dying.”
“What?!” she said incredulously.
“You think I’m crazy, don’t you?” Minu tried to shrug; the motion barely reached her shoulders. “It’s okay, most people do. You’re about to embark on the next stage of your career, and it’ll take you away from the core. You’re going to see things you haven’t seen, and you’ll begin to draw your own conclusions about the health of the rather loose alliance of species we euphemistically call the Concordia. Marvelous and vast it might be, but it’s nothing compared to what it once was.”
Minu couldn’t understand what he was saying. The Concordian Empire contained tens of thousands of worlds, many thousands of species, and spanned the entire Milky Way galaxy. Dying? Ridiculous. Impossible. Almost heretical!
The meeting wrapped with her presenting her mission plan, which he approved. She would command a seven-man team, all new like her, for an expected three-day mission to the frontier. In minutes, she’d all but forgotten Dram’s wild theory.
* * * * *
Chapter 4
September 14th, 515 AE
Chosen Headquarters, Steven’s Pass
Minu wasn’t surprised to find Aaron and Gregg waiting in the re
ady room. But she was surprised to see Cherise gearing up while chatting with Pip.
“Boss is here,” Gregg said, and they all snapped to attention. Minu made a rude hand gesture, and most broke out laughing. Three young Chosen came in and looked around. Spotting her five gold stars, they walked over and introduced themselves.
“William, scout,” the first boy said as Minu shook his hand. He was of medium build with jet black hair and had a laid-back demeanor that immediately worried her.
“Luke, also a scout,” the next one said. While he was almost as tall as Dram, Luke looked skeletal. His eyes were bright and inquisitive, and he kept his brown hair closely cropped.
“And that leaves me, Chester,” the last one said, “Logistics.” Dark, well-cut hair complemented his somewhat olive complexion. He nodded to Aaron when he spotted him. Minu guessed that he was from New Jerusalem like her friend, and they knew each other.
“Minu, Command,” she told them, though they likely knew that already.
“I’m glad the mission leader isn’t Ivan,” Chester said, getting enthusiastic nods from the other two newcomers.
“He’s such an asshole,” Luke put in. Minu’s friends snickered and soon they were all laughing. She liked the newcomers.
“Been on many missions with him?” Minu asked.
“A couple,” Chester said.
“Only one,” William said, “but that was one too many.”
“Same here,” Luke said.
Minu introduced them to the others on her team, then briefed them on the mission. Just as she trained to plan and carry out a mission, they trained to work with their leader to make that mission successful. The fact that she was their age and a woman didn’t affect them in any noticeable way. The new members saw how efficient she was, and that her three friends followed her naturally, and they went along. She said all the right things, and her stars were gold. That was enough for them.
“Wow, the frontier,” Aaron said, rubbing his hands together.
“What’s so great about that?” Pip asked as he struggled to put his gear in order. Minu eyed his backpack dubiously. It seemed to be overflowing with science kits and tablet computers. “No services, no restaurants, no network!” The last seemed to horrify him the most, as if being offline for any length of time was pure torture.
“That’s what’s great about it,” Aaron said as he stood, fully geared and ready to go. She smiled at him, and he smiled back. He’d gotten a little taller and broader across the chest since the Trials. She felt herself blush and looked away to cover it. Pip was still grumbling and fumbling with his gear. It was time to help him.
“Do you really need all this shit?” Minu asked as she dumped the contents of the backpack onto a table to organize them.
“Do you want me to be able to do my job?”
Minu rolled her eyes and went to work. She took the standard issue backpack away and returned with a field equipment bag. “I can’t carry that on my back,” he complained. She held up a menacing finger, and he shut up. She went to work with self-adhering dividers, straps and pads. In a few minutes she’d transformed the oversized bag into a backpack, complete with segmented dividers, and safely stored all his gear. Because of the sheer volume of ‘necessary equipment,’ the bag wouldn’t hold all his field gear. She decided to distribute part of his kit among the team. Her friends took it in stride, but the new guys gave Pip dirty looks.
“I guess that’ll work,” Pip said, slinging the pack. Minu gave him a frown. His pack was twice the size of theirs, but lighter, as his equipment was considerably less dense.
“It better,” she told him. He saw the look on her face and nodded. “Let’s check in,” she said and led them down the hall. The launch room was beside the portal, visible through huge moliplas windows. They walked through scanners that verified their conditions, and Minu reported to the duty officer.
“Michael,” he said and shook her hand. “First frontier mission?”
“Minu, and yes, it is.”
“Your mission plan looks solid, I’m sure you’ll do fine.” Minu smiled, and he turned to look at the computer screens as the scans of Minu and her team appeared. “Let’s see how your people look.” He looked at the displays, searching their gear and bodies for problems. Three gold stars glittered on his sleeve, and she was conscious that all her team wore five stars.
“Looks good,” he said as he finished evaluating them. He shook his head at the condition of Pip’s pack then complimented him on the improvised design. Pip hooked a thumb at Minu, and the officer nodded to her, acknowledging a job well done. “Just a couple of last pieces of equipment,” he told them and left for a moment.
“Hope it’s not too heavy,” Aaron said as he tried to resettle his very heavy pack. It was their first trip to the frontier, and they were realizing it wasn’t as glamorous as they’d thought.
Michael returned with a long metallic case, which he laid on a bench. He popped it open to reveal the contents. Everyone crowded around. The case was full of the Chosen’s standard-issue sidearms and rifles.
“Oh shit,” Gregg said, then looked embarrassed.
“You didn’t think Jacob would send you to the frontier with only your overdeveloped sense of self-worth for protection, did you?”
“I hadn’t thought about it,” Minu admitted. Michael distributed the weapons to each of them. The rifles were long but very light, made locally from Concordian components. They were a distant relative of the American M-4s and the Israeli Tavor rifles brought from Earth by the Plateau and New Jerusalem Tribes. But these weapons were more versatile and made from nearly indestructible dualloy and moliplas. Each team member received a belt with extra magazines and a semiautomatic handgun.
They were all nervous and giddy with excitement. Basic weapons training was part of all their training, and the scouts got routine practice. Since graduation, Minu, Pip and Cherise hadn’t touched a weapon, and they hadn’t trained on these advanced models. Minu expressed her concern to the Chosen.
“These weapons are functionally identical to the ones you trained on, with a few extras.” He handed each of them a computer chip. “Here are the weapons’ specifications in case you need them. I don’t need to remind you of your responsibility to humanity as representatives of Bellatrix. We do not fire unprovoked on any alien species, and we do not ever fire on any of the major players.” They all knew who those were. Minu shuddered at the thought of getting into a fight with T’Chillen, Tanam or Mok-Tok. “What are the rules for armed conflict?”
“Retreat, reevaluate, and report,” they all intoned as one.
“Always remember the three Rs; they’re our Rules of Engagement. We’re not an army. We’re not trained or equipped as one, and we definitely shouldn’t cause trouble for the Tog.”
“Understood,” Minu said, looking at her team. They nodded in agreement, none more than Pip. He looked like he’d rather face the Kloth than have to use the rifle, which he was still trying to sling next to his hulking backpack.
“And finally,” Michael said, “for your commander.” He turned to Minu and held out a nondescript black crystalline rod. She gaped at it.
“A portal control rod?” Pip blurted.
“How do you expect to get home? Without this and the access code, it’d be impossible to get through our portal. If you’re running for your lives and the one in Tranquility is busy, it could prove quite embarrassing.”
“Not to mention fatal,” William agreed.
Minu swallowed and accepted the rod. It felt warm in her hand and weighed next to nothing. The simulation they’d used in training was a plastic rod with touch sensitive controls. Michael had given her a key to the universe, and it made her dizzy with excitement. As soon as the Chosen released it, she felt a little tingle run up her spine. “Okay, it’s configured to you. No one else can use it.”
“What if she dies?” Luke asked. Minu didn’t like the way he asked; it was almost like he was hoping it might happen.
“Yeah, how do we get back?” Chester asked.
“You dial through to Herdhome or back to Tranquility, obviously.”
“But you just said—” William started to complain, but the older Chosen cut him off.
“These are powerful tools. We don’t hand them out haphazardly. No one else can use that rod, as it contains stored destinations. The more people who have access, the better the chance an enemy could ‘convince’ the holder to dial one of our unsecured portals. You know the galaxy’s not a safe place. We must keep our little corner as safe as we can. Now, if there are no more questions?” Pip looked like he was about to speak until Michael stared him down. He shrugged instead. “Good, please wait here for your launch window in about an hour.”
Michael took his place behind the control console and began entering data. The wall behind them turned transparent, and they could see a pair of Chosen working. Having sat shifts in the command center thousands of meters below them, Minu knew someone was watching them, perhaps Dram or Jovich, as they prepared to launch. Outside, the portal was inactive, waiting for the signal to send or receive travelers. She felt a little annoyed they weren’t leaving for an hour. But there was nothing she could do, so she sat on the bench and took out a tablet to go over the mission profile.
The hour passed slowly, much more slowly than she’d have wished. While they waited, two groups of Chosen left, none of them geared up like hers. Like Cherise, they all wore the green stars of logistics. A few minutes before their departure window, a transport arrived from parts unknown. It was a long cylinder, like the one she’d taken to Serengeti.
Then it was time, and Michael waved to get Minu’s attention. Her team was already standing by the door with their weapons slung under their arms within easy reach, except for Pip, who had his over his shoulder. Initial transport was always the most dangerous moment.
“All ready, I see. Excellent. Commander, take your team into the field.”
“Yes sir,” she said and opened the door. They walked out into the cool afternoon and lined up in front of the portal. Minu stood in front, holding the control rod, followed by Gregg, William, Chester, Pip, Cherise, Luke, and Aaron. “Here we go,” she said and activated the rod.
