Shadows

by Brian Whiting

  Timmy watched glyphs appear where Pete’s finger was located and then drift over the horizon of the orb before disappearing.

  “Oh my God!” Timmy smiled and brought his hands together.

  More new glyphs appeared.

  “YESSSSS!” Timmy began to do a quirky little dance routine.

  Pete walked over to the computer and printed out a sheet of paper. Then he handed it to Timmy.

  “What’s this?”

  “The first page of the dictionary.”

  “A, aardvark, abandon, ability, able, about,…”

  Four new glyphs appeared and disappeared.

  “Oh, crap!” Timmy said as he realized what needed to be done.

  ***

  They didn’t speak much as Jackie silenced any small talk on the way to Troy’s residence. She needed to see things for herself before she jumped to conclusions. As she approached the door to the residence, she considered her safety if she should in fact find something horrible. “You first.” She gestured for Troy to continue and set her datapad to be one push of a button away from contacting security.

  He opened the door and entered without saying a word, then walked deep into the room. A small kid ran up to him and hugged him fiercely. “Daddy!”

  It took her only a moment to see that the child was not likely to be a blood relative. She took a tentative step into the larger living room. The layout of the dwelling reminded her of her own. She watched two older kids, perhaps in their mid-teens, working diligently on computer screens, computers obviously not furnished by the United Earth Force, because the cases were exposed, with cabling going every which way.

  One of the older kids, a boy, turned and noticed the newcomer. He stood slowly and looked to Troy.

  “It’s OK,” Troy said. “She’s here to help.”

  Jackie gave him an unbelieving look, which the young man noticed.

  “What’s your name?” Jackie asked.

  “Tyler Humpree,” he barely managed to say.

  “How did you get here?” she asked.

  Several of the other kids were now gathered at the intersection of the dining room and the living room area.

  “I was beyond the fence, when Umpay found us.”

  Troy looked at Jackie and said, “My brother the shuttle pilot I told you about.”

  “Why were you beyond the fence?”

  “I was at camp four at the Delaware safe zone. But it wasn’t safe for me there, so I had to leave.”

  She felt her eyebrows go up.

  “I was suffering and barely able to walk when Umpay found me and brought me here. Now I am being fed, I am safe, and I am even going to school again.”

  Without moving her head she looked at Troy. “School.”

  “It’s just a digital curriculum we found. It should work well enough.”

  “Why don’t you take them to the UEF camp here at the perimeter?”

  “I did!” Troy said emotionally almost pleading. He continued more quietly: “They redistributed them to other camps to even out the populations. Most come here, but we cannot handle everyone, so we take them to other safe zones. I brought them five. All but one was redistributed. Payton here is the only one I managed to recover.” He nodded at the young girl wrapped in his arms.

  Jackie stepped closer to them. “Payton, my name is Jackie. I am a friend.”

  Payton responded by burying her head in Troy’s neck. “Hi,” she said, then reached out a little bit with her arm to shake Jackie’s hand.

  “It’s nice to meet—” Jackie started, but then noticed that the girl had a long red mark across her face, a scar scabbed over.

  “Bullies,” Troy said emphasizing the other child’s point. “The bigger ones take from the smaller ones.”

  Tears welled up in Jackie’s eyes; she knew the girl’s face was permanently scarred. “My God, why didn’t anyone do anything?”

  “Who?” Troy said in disbelief. “Food is scarce across the country. Few people are caring for the orphans.”

  Jackie couldn’t believe what she had stumbled on. She stood straight up and considered her next steps as she turned away from the group in the living room.

  “Everyone put some shoes on, we’re going to take a little trip.”

  “No, please, don’t—“ Troy started. But Jackie’s hard, unwavering stare shut him up.

  “C’mon, guys, let’s put your shoes on.”

  “Troy told us if we left the room they would find us and put us in a camp. I don’t want to go to a camp. I like it here.” One of the other teenagers said.

  Jackie looked at another but older child who spoke, could be confused for a young adult. With brown hair, eyes and with stubble growing on only a portion of his jaw. She got the impression he worked outside a lot. “I’m not taking you to a camp. Please do as I ask.”

  Jackie waited while the six kids put on shoes and the older ones got out book bags and filled them with bread, apples, water, and toilet paper before shouldering them. She almost stopped the kids but let them continue. After a few more minutes she led the group out of the room. She tapped a few messages on her datapad and made their way downstairs where a van would be waiting for them.

  ***

  “The pilot confirmed they have docked with the Gothan battleship,” the communications officer stated out loud to those listening on the bridge of the Enterprise.

  The bridge was bathed in blinking yellow, as everyone anxiously waited for updates. Alex’s shuttle was now attached to an unknown alien civilization’s battleship for the first time.

  Lanora looked around the bridge realizing Fena seemed very concerned about something. She began to rack her brain as to why Fena, who is normally calm under pressure, seemed more agitated than most. “Is Jeremiah piloting the shuttle?” Lanora wondered aloud as she already had developed suspicions previously.

  Fena looked surprised and snapped her head toward Lanora. She lowered her gaze and slowly turned away.

  That’s what I thought, Lanora thought, pleased she had solved the mystery so quickly.

  “Pilot confirms Alex and guards have disembarked from the shuttle,” the communications officer announced.

  “There’s a group of ships inbound to our location.”

  “Keep us slow and steady inward toward their location.” Lanora scanned the sensor display screen before her.

  “Captain, you should be aware, I am picking up concerning communications from intersystem traffic,” Symboli said in Lanora’s headset.

  Instead of replying verbally she typed onto her screen. What do you mean?

  “It seems there are a few local leaders not pleased with the current situation. I predict a high probability that an attack will occur,” Symboli responded in her ear only.

  (Any specifics?)

  (Not yet.)

  (Keep me posted. Alert me when you have a specific threat.)

  At that moment everyone’s display chimed, telling them that it was ten minutes before the relief team would take over the bridge stations. Over the next few minutes, various crew members entered the bridge, while those that had been there unstrapped themselves from the command chairs and left the bridge. To Lanora, it seemed that no one wanted to leave their posts, and the new arrivals seemed eager to take over.

  A message appeared on Lanora’s screen. (How are you feeling, want a break?) The message was from Jack.

  (Actually, I could use the restroom and grab a snack. There’s no way I can sleep right now though.)

  (On my way.)

  Lanora smiled.

  “Jeremiah advises they are returning with Gothan guests. They are preparing to depart,” the communications officer smiled and looked at Fena.

  “That didn’t take long at all,” Lanora said.

  “Not sure if that’s a good or bad thing.” Fena moved toward the exit of the bridge, then lingered near the exit door.

  “The shuttle has departed.” The communication officer received a tap on her shoulders as her relief watc
h arrived.

  Just then the bridge lighting turned red.

  “Captain, the ships have received orders to attack,” Symboli said calmly in Lenora’s headset.

  “The shuttle is taking fire!” the sensor operator yelled.

  “Get us over there now!” Lanora pulled on her straps and anticipated the feeling of rapid acceleration.

  “Are you getting out?” the relief officer waiting to take over the communications station asked the communication officer.

  “I am busy!” the officer responded, leaving the relief officer standing looking unsure about what to do.

  “Everyone get into a chair now, before you become a spot on the wall,” Lanora yelled while facing Fena, who was strapping into an empty bridge chair. The relief communication officer had to exit the bridge, as there were no more chairs available.

  She watched as the pilot began making adjustments to get underway. “Wait another minute!” Lanora shouted. “There are too many people still moving around the ship!”

  “The shuttle is taking a beating!”

  Tense moments passed before anyone said or did anything.

  “Everyone is secure,” Symboli said in Lanora’s headset.

  “Now, go!” Lanora yelled at the pilot.

  For a brief moment, Lanora felt the weight of a world and then nothing.

  It was peaceful and silent. She felt light and content with everything. Suddenly, something was off, wrong. Someone was crying. This was no time to cry; everyone is happy.

  Pain, ouch. Why do I feel pain?

  “….idiot,… over thr-… ace…”

  Who’s yelling? Just relax, she thought.

  The noises came back all at once. It was another moment before Lanora opened her eyes and yet another before she remembered what was going on. She looked to her left, and her head began pounding something terrible. She watched as Fena dragged the limp body of the pilot to the chair she had been sitting in. Standing on the chair, Fena pulled up on the man, who was of average size, and barely managed to get him in the chair in a slumped position. She then grabbed a strap and wrapped his leg and torso once and buckled him into the chair.

  “Stupid idiot…” Fena said, then smacked the unconscious pilot in the face, hard. He didn’t react. She made her way to the now-empty pilot’s chair and strapped herself in.

  “Situation report,” Lanora managed to mumble even as she noticed someone nearby still crying terribly.

  “We are on a fast approach to the battleship,” Fena muttered.

  “How long were we out?” Lanora said.

  Symboli responded in her ear, “You seemed to be unconscious for over ten minutes, Captain. I would have taken control of the ship’s maneuvering. However, I don’t have access to those systems.”

  “I am decelerating!” Fena said. She wasn’t asking.

  Lanora pushed a few buttons on her display screen, and the announcement “Medics to the bridge” blared over the speakers. Then she changed her display screen to sensors. After a moment of looking at the screen, she snapped her attention to the tactical station. Whoever was sitting there was still unconscious. “Damn it!” She unbuckled herself and bounded in a few steps to the tactical chair, unbuckling the unconscious man. Just then another set of arms appeared and helped her pull the man from the chair and onto the floor, since all the other bridge chairs had been taken.

  Lanora looked up to see Jack. His mouth and chin were smeared with blood.

  “Nosebleed, I’m fine,” he responded, noticing the concern on her face.

  “Targets in range, fire at will!” Lanora said softly as she struggled to regain complete alertness. She didn’t wait for Jack to respond and made her way back to her chair, passing a sobbing bridge officer who was holding his arm, which was bent in a peculiar way.

  Just before she started to strap in, red beams flashed across the screen. She saw that Jack was seated but had not buckled in yet. “Buckle in first!” Then she looked at the main viewscreen, where an image of the approaching fleet was visible. The computer was keeping the zoom and focus perfect, even as the distance closed rapidly. The ships of the little fleet were scattering in various directions, while the Enterprise was going to barrel through the middle of them.

  More and more beams appeared as more turret handlers regained consciousness.

  Lanora quickly grew concerned. It seemed the decoupler was effective against only some of the smaller ships. The red beam easily sliced through metal hull and any metal equipment affixed on the outside of the enemy hull. However, the ships composed mainly of rock seemed to take the beam strikes well.

  “Incoming fire!” Jack yelled.

  “Pulse cannons! Before we are out of position!” Lanora shouted.

  Jack picked the largest target in the group and fired a series of pulse rounds.

  Deep in the cannon assembly, a ball of Thean supercapacitor was magnetically rail-launched past three conductive rings. Each infused the ball of metal with intense infusive energy. The ball of material lit up like a small star and zipped past the last ring, saturating it with even more power, making it all the brighter and hotter.

  Lanora watched as a series of small stars went forth from the ship vanishing in the distance, the target was too far to see without the help of technology.

  Focusing her eyes back to her display screen she switched to the assisted view from the telescope and observed as the stars collided with the large ship. As soon as the ball of metal made contact with the rock it instantly transferred all that harnessed energy into the hull via thermodynamics, turning the hull into molten rock, gases expelling from every strike point. The rock cooled quickly in the cold of space, deforming parts of ships into unrecognizable forms.

  “Status on the shuttle?”

  The Enterprise began shuddering and vibrating.

  “We are taking fire. Kinetic projectiles. Fire from the smaller ships are unable to penetrate the hull, but it’s damaging the equipment.”

  Just then a deafening boom reverberated within the bridge.

  “However, fire from the larger ships is effective. They must be firing a larger-caliber round.”

  “We will pass the fleet in ten seconds,” the sensor operator shouted.

  “What’s the status on the shuttle?” Lanora asked.

  “Missile launch detected.” Jack watched as missiles came screaming out of eight small holes pointed forward on one of the not-so-large vessels. Immediately after the missiles launched one veered off course. Another spiraled out of control.

  Jack and the turret operators began targeting the missiles with the decouplers, while the pilot fixated one of the disks on another gravity source within the system and activated power to it, which altered the ship’s trajectory just a bit.

  The unconscious tactical officer, still prone, slid, albeit slowly, across the floor until he ended up against the far wall thanks to the change in g-forces.

  One of the missiles that veered a bit off course was now directly in the path of the Enterprise. It was completely white and looked like a typical missile: the nose thicker than the rest of the body, but with no tailfins as far as Lanora could tell.

  At that precise moment, one of those missiles bounced off the hull in a glancing hit, while another hit the hull of the Enterprise with the nose of the missile. Instantly four arms unlatched from the body of the missile and swung forward, burying their tips into the hull. The arms contracted, pulling the missile body against the hull. A drill inside the missile made quick work of the metal as hull shavings began floating away from the impact site. Then the drill head detached from the missile as it passed from an opening in the side of the missile body. A spring was uncoiled from inside the rear of the missile body, forcing a small cylinder into the hole that the missile had just drilled. When the cylinder met sufficient resistance after passing through the hole, it detonated.

  “Decompression deck two, forward section,” one of the crewmen shouted.

  “More missiles inbound, broa
dside.”

  The timing of the enemy missile launch was terrible. The Enterprise passed the whole fleet before some of the missiles even got a few feet away from their tubes.

  “They are point-and-shoot missiles…dumb missiles. They cannot turn or alter course after being fired,” Jack yelled. He watched as a few of the missiles made contact with other Gothan ships in the fleet, causing massive damage to those ships.

  “Status of the shuttle!” Lanora shouted again.

  “It’s received critical damage, it’s in a tumble, dead stick, caught in the gravity of the planet. There’s nothing we can do,” the sensor operator said, not looking up from his screen.

  Meanwhile, the communication officer could be heard making contact attempts with the shuttle in the background.

  “Battleship is reorienting toward us,” Jack said grimly.

  “Fire two cruise missiles, then follow up with cannon shots. Try to keep us out of effective range of its missile systems.”

  “Missile away.”

  A large eighteen-foot missile launched from one of two fixed tubes facing forward on the ship. The moment the missile exited the tube a set of fins sprang out on the front and rear of the missile itself. The end of each fin contained a small thrust nozzle which could alter the direction of the missile even in space. Once the missile completely exited from the ship, the main thruster fired and the missile took off for its target.

  “Missile two away.”

  “They are firing projectiles.”

  “We are slow enough for combat maneuvering, Captain,” Fena said, her combat training kicking in.

  “I want one pass on the battleship, and then get us out of this system!”

  The communication officer attempted to jump out of his chair but the straps held him firmly in the seat. The motion caught Lanora’s attention.

  “Enterprise, this is Alex. Can you hear me?” came over the speakers.

  “Yeah, we can hear you. Thank God, you’re alive, we assumed you had been killed,” Lanora responded, while the hull vibrated with the occasional projectile strike. “What’s your status?”

  A few moments passed. The viewscreen was filled with fast-moving little stars and red beams, and then a large explosion lit up the side of the battleship followed by another explosion that tore its front section wide open, sending the ship into a moderate spin.