THE PATHFINDER PROJECT

Prologue: The End

The following events take place in the Sol-system at some point in the 22^nd century…

After being forced to wait nearly three and a half hours, His Majesty King Drik Gyilto the second was finally admitted into the lowest level of the underground compound by two security guards. Both of the men were tall brutes, broad-shouldered and each dressed almost completely in black. They carried long, curved hunting knives strapped firmly to their waists along with fully automatic machine guns. Gyilto was familiar with the weapons, because it was his government that had acquired them for the Brotherhood. Money from his coffers had also funded most of the underground construction.

The rocky, winding corridor through which he was escorted seemed way too tall and wide to be completely safe so far beneath the surface. The initial tunneling effort reaching down this far had obviously been completed long before his time, but Gyilto was nevertheless impressed by the workmanship. He was so far down below on this particular visit that he seriously doubted even the most powerful bunker busting bombs could threaten the integrity of the sprawling underground complex. Every few dozen yards, huge steel support beams reinforced flat metal sheets braced against the tunnel ceiling. It all looked and felt totally secure.

Somewhere in the distance, not far ahead, he heard the sound of water dripping.

Fortunately for his darkening mood, the walk was a rather short one. After his long wait in the small, claustrophobic lounge, his Majesty’s patience was wearing extremely thin. He had personally taken it upon himself to visit the Brotherhood’s central command station in his small country of Ghuitan on several occasions, but Drik Gyilto had never before been treated so rudely. Then again, he had never before asked to see the actual command center itself. The Triumvirate in charge of the Brotherhood was notoriously secretive and hesitant to share their operations with anyone – even those who paid the bills were on a need to know basis. In the end, Gyilto hadn’t minded much since the arrangement offered more than a little political protection… just in case things somehow went sour. Espionage operations had a notorious tendency to do just that, unfortunately.

Then there were the rumors swirling through all major cities in Ghuitan that something major was in the works, and that whatever it was that would take place would happen soon. Ordinarily such idle gossip did not concern him, because there were always plenty of false rumors circulating, much of it deliberately planted to mislead. But Gyilto was certain of his sources in this particular case – he had heard the information that bothered him directly from operatives he trusted totally. Thus, he had made up his mind early on to verify their veracity. It was time to see just what his country’s wealth had been purchasing, and also make certain that the larger plan he had supported would in fact bloom to fruition.

They paused at a large metal door that looked to be solid black steel. It was framed on the top and sides by additional bands of reinforced steel. The door itself contained a small, barred window at eye level. However, it too was protected by a sheet of steel that was behind the bars and could only be opened from the inside. The ominous silence, broken only by the occasional sound of water droplets, was unnerving to say the least. His Majesty was surprised to discover that even this far beneath the surface of the Earth, even a King’s normally calm and composed nerves had the undesirable tendency to fray easily.

One of the guards eased into position alongside the large, heavily reinforced door while the other produced an electronic keycard. The larger man, partially blocking Gyilto’s view, proceeded to insert the thin device into an access port next to the door’s entry keypad. Amongst the silence and intermittent drips, he heard the guard pecking in a quick set of numbers. There was an electronic buzzing noise followed instantly by a loud, mechanical clunk that echoed throughout the corridor as the door’s internal locking system released. Turning slightly, the guard smiled malevolently. “You may enter with caution,” he instructed sternly. “We will wait for you here. But be aware, if you possess weaponry of any kind you will die before you can use it.”

 

Gyilto eyed the sharp-featured man warily. “I assure you, I am unarmed,” he snapped nervously. “Your people did have more than three hours to search me, after all.”

“We are simply warning you, in case you carry weapons that cannot be scanned,” the second man offered in response. “Those who oppose the Brotherhood instantly regret their choice. We have not survived nearly five decades by tolerating betrayal.” His colleague pulled the huge metal door open and waved Gyilto forward.

The entrance led into a huge, cavernous room with a ceiling that stretched so far above that the King could not even see it. He moved cautiously forward through subdued lighting, down a walkway neatly splitting two lengthy sections filled with chairs. There seemed to be hundreds of seats, the vast majority of which appeared to be occupied by people whose soft, whispering chatter completely shattered the earlier silence that had threatened to unnerve him out in the corridor. At the far end of the massive underground hideaway was a large wooden podium sitting atop a large stage. Directly to its left was a simple, rectangular wooden table with a thoroughly polished surface. Behind it sat three people wearing dark robes… two of them were male. Gyilto instinctively ignored the audience – it was the Triumvirate, the trio onstage he journeyed to meet.

“Welcome, your Majesty,” said one of the men rather agreeably as all three rose to greet him. His voice was dark and grating and seemed to lack emotion of any kind. “My name is Hobak.” He waved graciously toward what seemed to be the only remaining empty chair in the room and smiled more than a little malevolently. “Please… have a seat. We have much to discuss on this particular day.”

Gyilto could no longer contain his curiosity. “Everything begins soon, then?” he prompted, turning toward his assigned seat. For the first time his eyes caught a few faces from the audience and what he saw there froze him completely in his tracks. There were some occasional variations in hair style and eye color, and yet virtually every face in the audience bore a striking resemblance to one of the three people currently standing on the stage. Almost all of them, in fact, were a perfect match with one of the three Triumvirate leaders.

“How?” he gasped with astonishment, trailing off in shock as he studied the audience members’ startling similarities. “How did you…?” He tried again to ask the question and failed.

“Part of the operation your government has been funding is a cloning operation,” smirked Hobak, revealing that he could indeed show at least traces of positive emotion. “We three are perfect, so we procreate by cloning.”

“To answer your question, the end begins soon.” The attractive female’s sudden smile was just as shark-like as her colleague’s. “I am Valiana, and seated next to me is Durgon, the third member of our Triumvirate.”

Swallowing hard, Gyilto turned to look at the female seated directly to his left. Her hair was a dusty brownish-red and cropped short, but other than that she appeared to be an identical copy of Valiana. The man seated to his right looked exactly like Durgon wearing a black uniform instead of robes. Everyone surrounding him indeed appeared to be a clone created from one of the three people seated in front of him. The entire matter was extremely unsettling, to say the least. “Where did all of these… clones come from?” he asked with a growing inquisitiveness. “I only saw one corridor leading out of the waiting area, near the elevator shaft.”

“You passed by many other corridors on your way here, my King,” stated Durgon firmly. “Those who serve this far below the surface were simply hidden from you. We use holographic projectors to cover entrances to the other key areas of this level with the image of solid rock. Any enemy who manages to gain access to this complex is thereby guided directly into a deadly trap, although we have yet to make use of it.”

“We were understandably puzzled when you asked to meet with us, your Majesty,” continued Hobak. “You have never asked to do so before, and we have always worked hard to insure that our reputation is a formidable one. Most who ask too many questions about our Brotherhood and this Triumvirate in particular, eventually end up… missing.”

“You have done much for my small, beleaguered country,” countered Gyilto immediately, fighting back both his fear of the Brotherhood and a sudden, instinctual urge to panic. “If the world is to end today, I would know specifically who brought about its destruction. I must insure for the sake of my people that you will adhere to our agreement and protect them from harm.”

“You should know that your request to meet with us was initially turned down,” Valiana observed with a smirk. Her long, dark hair, unrestrained, fell in dark, curvy waves behind her head and across her shoulders. “We are curious as to why you would risk so much by persisting.”

Shrugging his shoulders indifferently, Gyilto eyed them a bit more confidently. “You have admittedly done much for my small country over the years,” he admitted to them. “You have contributed significantly more than the meager assistance sparingly provided to us by any other governing body on this wretched planet. Even so, before I turn over my final payment – five thousand kilos of gold – it seemed logical to meet the leaders of the Brotherhood and find out more about the people who were about to orchestrate the destruction of Earth as we know it.”

The light within the massive cavern was noticeably dimmed, and only a faint glow from somewhere below lit the faces of the Triumvirate in a hellish glow. Chuckling with mild amusement, Hobak studied the lined face of Drik Gyilto carefully. “During all of your efforts to raise your nation into a respected class, what has been your greatest obstacle?” he asked curiously, observing Gyilto intently in order to better gauge his reaction.

“The West,” growled Gyilto after pondering the matter for a moment. “The United States, in particular. They are so well established and so economically powerful that a small country like mine, with limited resources and a small population, has no chance for anything other than long-term mediocrity. I am sick of sending delegates to the U.N. for endless negotiations about trivial matters that lead nowhere.”

“Indeed, the power of the West is the single most important factor that must change,” agreed Durgon with a sharp nod of his head. He was tall, broad-shouldered and blonde. Even from a seated position he towered over the smaller form of the female seated next to him. “After Earth’s two World Wars, the West took advantage of its victories and gained too much strength and influence. Together with their allies in Europe, they have been pinning everyone else down politically and dictating the direction of global markets for far too long.”

“You look Russian,” noted Gyilto, pointing a tentative finger in Durgon’s direction. “And your words have a notably Eastern European dialect to them.”

“Excellent!” Hobak responded with clear approval. “You are a skilled diplomat and familiar with the linguistic arts. Durgon’s clone line does indeed originate in Russia.” He briefly gestured toward his own darker skin and hair, along with the slight tilt at the corners of his eyes. “My line clearly began in this region, south of China but east of India. Fortunately our cloned Brothers who work above ground don’t all bear such recognizable traits, or our efforts to upset the balance of power would have been that much more difficult.”

Gyilto had been listening patiently, but uncertainty briefly touched his thoughts. “Your line…” he began, struggling with the term and then trailing off while he studied them even more closely. His gaze drifted to those seated next to him, and he took a few minutes to turn completely around in his chair so that he could conduct a brief survey of the other people seated behind him.

“Why yes, all three of us have a genetic origin and subsequent clone line,” noted Valiana. At first glance, she appeared to be an American, judging primarily by her soft white skin, subtle curves and the flawless English she spoke. There wasn’t a trace of Europe or Asia to be found in her accent, but the same could certainly not be said of the two men. “We three were the first in the Brotherhood’s cloning process… a highly successful attempt to create an entire hidden warrior class capable of bringing Earth’s population back down to a more… manageable… level.” Her smile bordered on provocative. “Not all of us, however, look exactly alike.”

Durgon’s sharp-edged smile could have frozen even the most confident soul. “Members of my line were used to infiltrate Russia,” he informed Gyilto proudly. “Some of my brothers are in other European and Asian nations as well, but my mission has been to place top level operatives in Moscow and other key Soviet cities. Although my personal skills are primarily of a medical nature, the training of all subsequent clones from my line has involved technology, particularly the covert infiltration of computer hardware and software.”

A warm feeling of confidence surged through Gyilto and he pointed at Hobak. “Then your… line… must have been used to infiltrate China,” he guessed with perceived understanding. “The Himalayas lie just north of here.”

“Not simply China, my good King,” chuckled an amused Hobak in response. “India and Pakistan as well.”

“Clones, you see, can be anything we want them to be,” continued Valiana informatively. “We had no need to speed along the maturation process in the way others have tried. Our soldiers of the Brotherhood were grown, enhanced and educated in our methodologies beginning from the day they were born.” She turned her head sharply and sent her dark hair flying. “My own line has been placed undercover primarily in the Western nations, particularly since the men there are much more susceptible to my… charms.” She smiled provocatively at him and Gyilto felt a chill of fear run down his spine as he thought suddenly of all the enemy undercover operatives who had entered his country over the years, only to promptly vanish without a trace.

“How can I be certain that my nation will be spared?” wondered the King suddenly. “A nuclear annihilation of the type you are planning has the potential to destroy every nation on Earth, not just the ones in which you stir up a hornet’s nest.”

“Most of your plutocrats and soldiers will be underground, in this complex, with us. The remainder of your people, those who chose not to join the Brotherhood, will act as guinea pigs. They will assist us in measuring the fallout from the coming war.” Hobak spoke with clear, unbridled confidence on the subject. “We have learned a lot from our long-term, intensive studies and genetic manipulation of clones. In this particular field of medicine, we have enough skills, along with a large supply of anti-radiation medication, to take care of your nation. After all, your cooperation has purchased your country a front row ticket in the new world order.”

“Our intelligence is very accurate and detailed,” continued Durgon almost dismissively. “It clearly shows that you are no concern to the larger nations. Those with nuclear weapons will target other nations with nuclear weapons… Ghuitan has very little to worry about. Your country is still mostly impoverished and weak in the eyes of the Western world. Of course, they will help you, but only if you support their world view and have the patience to wait years for their political process to play out.”

Gyilto was still not completely convinced. “I have doubts in particular about your ability to take on America,” he admitted. “Your Brotherhood has proven itself to be very strong indeed, but no one ever seems able to break through their defenses. How can you guarantee that they too will be implicated and caught up in this sudden war?” For the first time, he detected a distinct expression of distaste and growing anger in Hobak’s expression. The King immediately regretted asking the question. He had gotten away with a lot, thus far, but clearly the audience they had granted him was limited. How long does it take for YOUR political process to play out? He wondered silently to himself.

“You need to relax, your Majesty, and return to running your plucky Constitutional Monarchy,” suggested Valiana with an alluring smile. “It is true that the United States has the best of the best, in terms of technology. But we have acquired key codes to some of their missile sites. These admittedly cannot normally be used to activate missiles without the direct approval of their President. However, once bombs begin to detonate within their borders, the U.S. military alert system will automatically escalate their defensive status and our codes will become active. America will also participate in the destruction of the nations that fire on them. In the wake of such a global annihilation, no one will be able to remember, or prove, specifically who fired the first shot. All of the major nations currently running this planet will be reduced to rubble, and then we will control the rebuilding process using the people, wealth and technological resources that we have… acquired.”

The King studied her disinterested manner for a moment before rising to his feet. “So what you’re basically telling me,” he concluded. “Is not to worry about the things I can’t control.”

Valiana nodded in response. “Rest assured, your Majesty, the Brotherhood controls the outcome. It will take years for the larger nations to reorganize and rebuild. By the time they do, those loyal to us will have the upper hand. It is regrettable that they wield so much power in such an irresponsible manner, because the only way to stop them is to knock everyone down equally. Once the larger nations are no longer the biggest bullies on the block, the way will be paved for leaders like you to step forward.”

The entire room fell silent for a moment, and Gyilto used the time to silently analyze her statements carefully. “How soon will this... leveling of the playing field… take place?” he asked curiously.

Durgon flashed a razor edged smile. “If I were you, I would return to the upper levels but remain within this complex,” he suggested, laughing darkly at his own words. “The end is finally upon us all.”

Sensing instinctively that their patience with him was wearing thin, the King rose to his feet, nodded with respect in the general direction of the Triumvirate before returning quietly to the large metal door at the rear of the cavern. Silently, the two guards waiting outside escorted him back down the corridor in the direction of the elevator that would return him to the top levels of the compound.

They’re not kidding, Drik Gyilto thought silently. They’re going to initiate a nuclear war!

*     * * *     *

 

After the King of Ghuitan was gone, Hobak took a few minutes to dismiss the dozens of clones that had been seated in front of the stage. “Return to your posts,” he urged them. “Keep alert and watchful over the next few hours. If any of our many enemies suspects that anything is out of the ordinary, our undercover operatives will detect any planned counter offensive and report in. Be ready for this… be ready and be strong!” He clenched the fingers of his right hand into a tight fist and then held out the entire arm in the traditional salute.

All of those assembled before him returned it without hesitation. “Be ready and be strong!” they shouted back. Then, in an orderly manner, they formed two slowly moving lines and filed back out into the corridor.

When they were gone and only the Triumvirate remained, Durgon cast a wary gaze in the direction of Valiana. “Gyilto is correct about the United States,” he pointed out to her. “Their nuclear launch codes, in particular, are heavily encrypted and subject to extremely tight protocol. We may not be able to initiate launches from here.”

“It does not matter my friend,” replied Hobak reassuringly. “We have stirred up such paranoia within the Chinese government regarding America, that they will almost certainly target the U.S. first. Once enough missiles begin to explode within their borders, you can bet that their President will order a counter-attack. He would be a fool not to. The smaller nuclear powers will join in as soon as they recognize that they too are targets – our control over facilities in India and Pakistan will fire on them and almost certainly send the final dominoes toppling.” His expression soured, and he glanced down at the empty desktop in front of him before shooting an angry glance in Valiana’s direction.

“It is not our fault that this is happening earlier than we anticipated,” she insisted defiantly, sensing his outrage. “There will be a new American President soon, and regardless of who wins the election, their new leader will undoubtedly begin to increase the armaments on merchant vessels traveling throughout the solar system.”

“The victor will also increase their military presence in outer space,” Durgon predicted. “We have stolen too much from civilian vessels over the past few years. America as a whole might be in steep decline, but their military is well-known to protect the weak and defenseless. Here on Earth we will immediately dominate, but it will take time for our starships to hunt down their space-borne defenses and eliminate all capital ships.”

“That isn’t what bothers me,” Hobak decided with a deep frown. “What bothers me is Cassiopeia, the secret project the Americans have had in development for more than a decade. They have an entirely new form of Point-to-Point wormhole engine design under construction at their base on the moon. Everyone who is officially asked will publically deny it, but I know that it’s up there.” He leaned back in his chair and stretched, pondering the matter a bit further. “I don’t like it at all, because Cassiopeia is the project that is forcing us to act earlier than planned. All our work could be for naught if they get that new system operational before we’re ready.”

Valiana shook her head. “All of my contacts in the U.S. have claimed that the Americans are still more than a year away from bringing anything substantive on-line,” she told him sternly. “In the meantime they will have to rely upon standard Point-to-Point transit like every other space-faring nation.”

“The reports from your contacts are probably one hundred percent accurate,” acknowledged Hobak, although his mood remained restive. “That’s the problem. When the Americans have such tight control over a project on the moon, it is easy for them to shut off information leaks. The people up there,” he paused long enough to jerk a thumb toward the ceiling, “are probably feeding the population down here whatever propaganda that they choose to. After all, didn’t they originally say they were trying to mine some sort of new ore? I now know that troublesome rumor to be false. I also know they have an underground complex despite claims to the contrary.”

Taking a deep breath, Valiana noted that her words failed to reassure him. Nevertheless she persisted. “Even if the Americans manage to extend the range of PTP transit beyond our solar system, where would such a ship go? To date, there is still no tangible evidence of alien life beyond this planet.”

“It is not their flashy new transit drive that concerns me,” concluded Hobak with a restless sigh. “I am worried more about the fundamentally new type of power source that they must be developing in order to power it. Such an energy source could easily be adapted for use in powering weaponry, and that would not bode well for us. It could ruin everything, in fact.” The three of them fell silent for a few minutes, deep in thought. Finally, Hobak looked toward Valiana as a sudden thought struck him. “Were you successful with your assignment to plant an operative in that moon colony?” he inquired.

Her cheeks flushing red with embarrassment, Valiana shook her head in response. “Their screening of applicants for the science team is much too tight, even for us. Three years ago we had a strong possibility in the making, but she was unfortunately rejected.” The beautiful brunette shrugged helplessly. “It’s a bottleneck up there… they don’t need people that often, and when they do they tend to select the best of the best.”

Hobak’s frown deepened. “I don’t LIKE not KNOWING what is going on up there!” he thundered suddenly, his deep voice reverberating loudly throughout the huge chamber. He rose to his feet so quickly that his chair fell over with a loud clatter as it skittered across the wooden stage floor. Turning toward Valiana, his face reddened. “It was you who was tasked with placing an operative there…”

Also rising to his feet, Durgon stepped protectively in front of Valiana and raised a reassuring hand toward Hobak. “Relax,” he stated calmly but surely. “There are always other options that we have considered. The Cassiopeia moon base also requires a great deal of skilled labor, and that is the expertise of my cloning line. Thus far it is at a low level clearance only, but we do have an undercover agent working there.”

The news calmed Hobak considerably. He took several deep breaths to soothe his fierce temper, then picked up his overturned chair and reseated himself. “Has this operative, perchance, checked in recently in order to keep our intelligence up to date?”

“He has,” nodded Durgon with a satisfied smile. “The information he transmitted several weeks ago matches the reports from Valiana’s people. He stated very clearly that the Americans are at least a year or more away from full development of their new engine system.”

“Good,” said Hobak approvingly. “Then we may proceed with our war.”

2: I: Armageddon

THE PATHFINDER PROJECT

Chapter I: Armageddon

He was on the moon’s surface when the first reports began trickling in. Once again he had decided to take the time for a personal recon hike to look for the best spot to land the Pathfinder. At first the crackle of his helmet transceiver annoyed him slightly, until he heard the tone of voice on the other end.

“Denny… I mean, Captain Kaufield?” The voice was faint but filled with strong emotion.

“This is Kaufield,” Dennis responded, stopping to rest against the dusty side of a small lunar hill. “What’s the problem, Mary? You sound stressed.” He chuckled a little bit while adjusting the O2 setting on his standard‑issue flight suit. “I know the revised schedule moves our next test up two weeks, but I’m sure we’ll get the work done in plenty of time. We always do.”

“It’s not that, sir,” his communications specialist responded. “You’re not going to believe this. We’re receiving reports of at least three nuclear detonations on Earth!”

“What?” Kaufield asked with surprise. “Are you certain? Who is responsible?”

“At this point no one knows, sir. New reports are coming in… dozens of explosions. The news feeds I’m listening to are calling it an all‑out attack!”

Kaufield stood, stunned, for a moment. His eyes were still surveying the lunar surface, but his thoughts were racing wildly. “I’m on my way back,” he decided suddenly. “Have the base go to full alert, and post armed guards around the Pathfinder.” A sudden rush of anger caused him to take too large of a step and he stumbled, landing awkwardly on his back. “Damned low gravity environments,” he growled, leaping to his feet. “And damn whoever is behind this. Almost a century of peace and NOW the world decides to go insane.” He ran as fast as the moon’s conditions allowed, kicking up clouds of dust in his wake that would take some time to settle.

“It’s confirmed sir,” Mary’s voice crackled a bit from static, but cleared almost immediately. “At least five nations are involved, including Russia, China, India, Pakistan… and the United States! We’re retaliating in what appears to be the beginning of a huge global conflict!”

“May God help us!” he stated, adjusting his transmitter frequency as fast as his gloved fingers would allow. “Attention all base personnel, I repeat, attention all base personnel. This is Captain Dennis Kaufield. At this time I am ordering an immediate suspension of all incoming and outgoing ship launches. If there’s anybody in the air get on the comm system and order them back. After that, initiate a communications blackout and shut down all non‑essential systems base wide.”

“Captain, this is Thomas cutting in,” said a new voice in his ear. “We’ve got several seriously critical tests in progress on the Pathfinder’s CAS upgrade. I don’t think you want…”

“Shut everything down, dammit!” Kaufield repeated. “If there are hostile vessels in the area – and you can bet there are – then they’ll be coming here too. I don’t want bulls‑eyes painted on the key areas of our complex when they get here.”

He reached the base of one of the larger hills. A massive niche was carved in its side with a hatchway located in the center. Kaufield quickly activated the door’s entry mechanism and stepped into an airlock. “I’m in,” he said, waiting impatiently for oxygen to flood the inner compartment. “I’ll be up in Central Operations momentarily.”

*     * * *     *

Khyber Base was only ten years old but built to last, even on the moon. Kaufield had been stationed here for seven of those years, insuring that the larger Cassiopeia Project directing construction of the Pathfinder stayed on schedule. Most of the specific details were just a dream when he was a kid, but now – at age 39 – the revolutionary new science vessel had become his one and only focus in life. He had been lucky, because his father had always supported his decision and admired his determination to get to space.

Until now, the best part was that the brand new ship was almost ready for testing!

He cussed again as he ran through the corridors of the base, descending gradually into its underground labyrinth. Just a few more weeks, and all they would have left to correct were the minor glitches. That’s what frustrated him the most at the moment – the fact that the “bells and whistles” stage of the project was so close at hand. No longer limited by the moon’s low gravity, Kaufield blew through the nearest door to the Operations Center at a full sprint.

“Take a look at this, sir,” Lieutenant Mary Hastings reported quietly, without looking up. Her short, brunette hairstyle always caught him by surprise. She was a very pretty woman but chose to look professional first, especially while on duty. That was the way she always did her job, too.

On the main monitors at the center of the room were various pictures of Earth’s continents, fed to them from orbital communications satellites. Massive glowing explosions covered most of them, with additional new blast points sprouting up as quickly as the others began to fade.

“God forgive!” someone across the room said in astonishment. Several of the technicians next to her were in tears, and there wasn’t a member of the crew who didn’t look shaken by the unexpected turn of events.

“Is the picture on the right North America?” Kaufield asked, more than a little astonished by the fact that there were already so many explosions he couldn’t even be certain.

“Yes,” Mary replied. “These images were recorded only minutes earlier. Since then we’ve lost all contact with most of the standard government channels. But there’s lots of civilian chatter, and military Comm-traffic is rising steadily.”

“What are the civilian Captains saying?”

“We’re receiving distress calls and reports of large, unknown vessels.”

“Unknown vessels?” queried Kaufield. “What kind?”

“Well, for one thing our supply shuttle just called in, sir,” she stated matter‑of‑factly. “They were on their way back to rendezvous with the rest of the supply convoy. A larger capital ship dropped out of PTP transit almost on top of them and immediately opened fire. All attempts to communicate with the newcomer are being ignored. That’s it… then the message ends. I know the whole story only because I received a follow up message from one of the crew – he contacted me with an emergency transmitter someone had on board. I was just about to send the Ranger to help them out when you ordered a halt on all traffic.” She shrugged. “It’s the same with the military vessels, too. Unknown ships are dropping out of transit and immediately opening fire.” Her lips pursed tightly as she listened, trying to filter out the unnecessary conversations. “There are also frantic reports from the officers on military vessels regarding some sort of electronics problem.”

“Confirm base blackout,” Kaufield ordered, “With the exception of that shuttle. Try opening communications with her Captain. I want to know if they’re okay.” Standing next to Mary, the Captain activated another of the Comm‑links that lined her console. “Thomas,” he stated firmly, “If you have everything on Pathfinder shut down I’d like you to get up here and help Mary monitor communications. She kind of has her hands full at the moment.”

“Monitor communications. For what?” Thomas responded irritably.

“We don’t know yet, Tom,” Kaufield told him. “That’s what I need you to find out. It sounds like there’s some kind of unknown attack underway, and whoever is doing it is interfering with military communications as much as possible while firing on our fleet… probably a jamming field of some sort. They’re also nuking Earth! I want you and your specialists on this right freaking now. Find out how they’re doing it.”

Behind him, a door opened and a Marine walked into the room. “I heard, Captain,” he said tensely. “How bad is it?”

“I need you to place the base on full alert, Colonel Neeland,” Kaufield replied. “I may be head of this project, but you and your troops are the ones assigned to protect us. Be ready for anything…”

“An announcement has just been made on all civilian frequencies,” noted Mary, the expression on her face all the apology he needed for the abrupt interruption. “Someone representing an organization called the Brotherhood of the Dragon is claiming responsibility for the attacks.”

Kaufield whirled to face the Colonel. “There you have it. This so-called Brotherhood is attacking both military and civilian targets. They also have some sort of jamming field in place that is interfering with ship-based electronics.”

“Then I suggest we implement our disaster contingency plan,” the Colonel replied.

“Deactivate key systems and evacuate all personnel underground?” Kaufield weighed the idea warily before nodding in agreement. “If they’re using nukes, then we can expect to get hit, too.”

“Agreed,” Neeland replied.

Switching his Comm to a base‑wide frequency, Kaufield quickly cleared his throat. “This is Captain Dennis Kaufield,” he stated firmly. “We are declaring an emergency disaster situation. Everyone is ordered to drop what you’re doing and gather together all the supplies and equipment you can carry. Evacuate to the Pathfinder’s shuttle bay. It’s deep enough underground that we should be safe there for the time being. Everyone, and I mean everyone, assemble there ASAP. Based on what I’m seeing up here, I estimate you’ve got less than thirty minutes.”

The Operations Center suddenly became a flurry of activity as on duty personnel began packing their essentials and shutting down consoles. Within minutes, only the Colonel, Dennis and Mary remained. As the last of the technicians left, Thomas Roh entered the room. The tall, spindly computer technician was firmly shaking his head negatively – it was difficult to tell at first glance whether his frustration was directed at the situation in general or something specific. He was nearly thirty years old, and yet – to Kaufield – he still looked like an acne-scarred kid fresh out of high school.

“The enemy is NOT jamming us, sir. It’s something else,” he concluded confidently. “We had all our systems on the Pathfinder up and running and there was absolutely nothing interfering with our tests – not even the smallest glitch.”

“Yes, but the Pathfinder has new, state‑of‑the‑art systems,” Dennis pointed out.

“That is a valid point,” mused Thomas thoughtfully. “None of our stuff has officially been used yet on official, operational vessels. Perhaps our software and hardware isn’t as vulnerable.”

“It’s got to be something else,” Mary objected. “All signals from Earth are gone, primarily because of interference from the massive bombing and attacks on the orbiting satellites.” She listened closely for a moment. “But the local wireless traffic is full of ship‑in‑distress calls. If they were electronically jamming everyone’s systems, we wouldn’t be able to hear those.” She looked at them, white-faced with terror. “Would we?”

“If you’ll excuse me,” the Colonel said solemnly, “I’m going to go see about assembling my Marines. Don’t stay above ground for too much longer, folks.” he cautioned sternly, and then headed for the closest exit.

“Have you been able to raise the Commander of that supply shuttle?” Kaufield asked curiously.

“No, sir. If they’re still alive then they’ve stopped transmitting on their end.”

Thomas had put on a set of headphones and was listening intently. “We’re getting creamed,” he said, whistling softly. “The military has lost entire warships already.”

“Could it be some sort of EMP weapon?”

“No way,” Thomas replied. “You could blow up the biggest nuke we’ve got right next door to one of those newer combat starships and its electronics would still work. The people on board would fry before the systems shut down.” He continued listening intently for several minutes, and the Operations room became totally silent.

“Can you continue monitoring from the hangar bay?” wondered Kaufield.

“Affirmative,” Thomas responded. “Most of our fancier stuff is either on or around the Pathfinder anyway.

“Then let’s shut this stuff off and get down there, too. The thirty minutes that I advised others about will be up soon.”

*     * * *     *

The underground hangar bay was huge… and it had to be. In its center sat the Pathfinder, the most advanced long‑term exploratory Earth vessel ever built. Its central fuselage was lengthy and massive, designed to accommodate a large population numbering near a thousand. Sprouting from its dorsal hull at 45 degree angles were the top two “wings”. The port wing, called the “Garden”, was duly named due to the entire, self‑contained flower and farm gardens located within. The starboard “Livestock” wing was more like a space ranch – holding all kinds of small animals and livestock. The two were connected along the top of the fuselage, allowing insects and other small creatures to move freely from one wing to the other. It was an engineering marvel.

Two identical wings sprouted similarly from the bottom of the fuselage. One housed a complete electronics, software and hardware “Laboratory”, while the other was an “Observatory” filled with telescopes and other types of astronomical equipment. Nestled neatly between the two lower wings was a roomy launch bay, containing half a dozen shuttles along with room for a dozen single-pilot fighter craft.

Hatches along the entire port side of the starship’s ground level hangar bay were open and waiting. Hundreds of people were streaming through the access points and into the Pathfinder, responding as quickly as possible to the unexpected evacuation notice. Stationed just in front of the bow of the large vessel was an armed Marine squad led by Colonel Murray Neeland. Next to him stood Captain Kaufield, Mary Hastings and Thomas Roh. In front of them was just one of many science stations designed to monitor the Pathfinder’s key systems. Currently it was capturing and recording all communications traffic from the vast depths of the solar system surrounding the moon.

“It looks like we’re going to have to test your new ship sooner than expected,” Murray commented, surveying the organized crowds of people moving aboard.

“Quite possible,” replied Kaufield grimly. “What’s the word, Thomas?”

“Like I said, we’re getting creamed,” he replied. “At least half the fleet is gone, including the flagship. Admiral Henry of the Lexington has taken command of the surviving fleet.” Thomas paused, listening closely. “He’s ordering all allied ships to rendezvous at Neptune, where they’re planning to organize a counter‑strike.” He studied a list of received transmissions and shook his head. “So far, there is nothing from the Russians or the Chinese. If their ships are still intact, they’re being extremely quiet.”

“That would be my first choice,” nodded Kaufield with a sigh. “Someone caused us to blink long enough to surprise our primary fleet. It’s possible that the Russians and the Chinese were even less prepared than we were. I know a couple of their Captains and haven’t heard a word. Several of them would have warned me.”

The kid appeared genuinely intrigued. “How do you know them?”

Smiling, Kaufield tousled Roh’s unkempt brown hair with the fingers of his left hand. “While you toil endlessly down here in the underground lunar caverns, some of us up on the surface have been acting as diplomats. The top levels of the base are declassified, and we have at times re-supplied ships from other nations.”

“When do we lift off?” asked Colonel Neeland cautiously.

“Is that really necessary at this point?” Kaufield studied the hard lines of the Colonel’s face closely. “Shouldn’t we wait and see if they know about us?”

“They know about us!” Mary said sharply from her position next to Thomas Roh. “I have multiple radar contacts overhead, and one of them is the biggest signal I’ve ever seen. It has to be one of those unknowns.”

“Where would they hide a fleet big enough to engage most of the world’s fleets?” wondered Kaufield, clearly intrigued. “This Brotherhood must have been planning to engage us for quite some time. Before today, I’ve never even heard of them.”

The hangar bay rumbled ominously around them. As soon as the sound began to die down, another rumble – this one much louder – rocked the entire underground complex. Sounds of metal fatigue filled the hangar, and equipment setting on the ground began to vibrate. Several of the consoles in front of Thomas and Mary abruptly went dark – either from damage or lack of power. With everything that was happening, it was difficult to tell at a glance.

“So I guess they’re nuking the Operations Center,” decided Thomas wryly. “It’s lucky I’m used to being down here all the time, because we’re probably going to be here a while.”

“They’re bombing the surface, definitely,” Kaufield replied, as more nearby explosions rumbled through the surrounding cavern. “They’re going easy on us – just taking out the above ground base. If they were using thermonuclear bombs, we would know.” He thought carefully for a moment and then came to a decision. “Colonel, get your troops ready… as soon as an opportunity presents itself we’re evacuating this base in the Pathfinder. We can’t take a chance that our unknown enemy won’t get to us down here.”

“One problem, sir,” pointed out Thomas. “We can’t go to Neptune. The planet is currently orbiting right through the center of a massive radiation cloud that will fry our new CAS Drive if we’re not careful.” He smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “I never know when we might go out there, so I watch the weather reports.”

“Admiral Henry included a route through the cloud in his last military transmission,” Mary pointed out.

“No way,” responded Thomas. “The CAS Drive’s main software is still being fine‑tuned. That’s why I was planning to have you temporarily park her on the surface. From there, we could make direct adjustments to the hardware and software in a non‑atmospheric environment.

“Then we don’t go to Neptune, at least not yet,” decided Kaufield. “We’ll find another location, and hook up with surviving vessels later.” He turned his attention to Mary. “How many enemy ships are we dealing with?”

“Just one now,” she reported. “The larger vessel has completed its attack on the complex and has transited away. I’ve got one enemy transport ship on its way down – everything else has left the area.”

“I suppose they know about the underground part of the base, too,” Thomas ventured nervously.

“Affirmative,” Mary responded. “The transport is setting down less than 100 meters from the edge of our overhead hangar doors.”

“Looks like it’s time for me to find the Colonel,” Kaufield said. “Everyone else get into the ship. And have the command crew prep the ship for liftoff.”

“We’re nowhere near ready to use the CAS Drive,” Thomas objected, “Captain, we could really damage our systems if we don’t make proper adjustments to the software first.”

“Don’t worry,” Kaufield replied, patting the nervous computer specialist on his shoulder.

“We’ll use the standard PTP drive for now. You’ll get your chance to complete the work; it’ll just have to be done out in space instead of on the lunar surface.”

*     * * *     *

“Those uniforms don’t look like Russian or Chinese to me,” Colonel Neeland said flatly, turning to regard the Captain thoughtfully. “Just who the devil is responsible for all of this chaos? It couldn’t be us… right?”

Kaufield chose not to respond, for the moment. The two of them were standing near one of the airlock entrances that opened out onto the lunar surface. On one of the monitors they watched a squadron of forty or so white, space-suited soldiers marching directly toward them. They were closely following a leader wearing a completely black colored space suit. None of the suits appeared to have any recognizable types of identifying marks or emblems. Approximately fifty meters from the door the encroaching soldiers halted their approach. The person leading them continued forward and stopped just outside the airlock. There was no other signal of any kind… whoever it was just stood there patiently waiting.

“Do we let him in?” asked Kaufield, glancing uncertainly at the Colonel.

“As long as his troops stay right where they are, yes,” replied Murray. “You did say you wanted us to stall them as long as possible?”

“That’s an affirmative,” the Captain replied. “As far as intelligence goes, unless they’ve directly interrogated our President they should believe our project is way behind schedule. They also shouldn’t know that the Pathfinder has a backup PTP drive, in addition to the brand new CAS system.” He looked quickly at his watch. “However, Thomas and the others will need a few more minutes to complete the pre-flight process. We’ve been planning to land the ship on the moon’s surface anyway, so it shouldn’t take him long.”

The Colonel motioned to the two marines on either side of him. Both immediately took up defensive postures and raised their weapons cautiously. Murray then turned back to Kaufield and nodded.

There was a loud hiss audible as Kaufield released the lock on the outer door. They heard it open and close – followed by a long pause as the airlock re-pressurized. Glancing cautiously at the Marines, the Captain shook his head in frustration and released the lock on the inner door. It opened slowly, and the space-suited figure entered the inner corridor. As soon as the airlock door closed tightly shut, the newcomer unlocked and removed the suit’s helmet.

The man in the space suit had long dark hair pulled back in a ponytail and handsome, Eurasian features. He was extremely well-muscled, and smiled slightly at the looks of astonishment on the faces of the men surrounding him. “My name is Hobak 627,” he stated matter-of-factly, “You may call me Hobak. I am here to demand your unconditional surrender.”

“I am Captain Dennis Kaufield,” replied the Captain. “I hope you don’t mind if we ask you a few questions first.”

“Not at all,” Hobak replied far too politely, inhaling a deep breath of fresh air. “Just understand that I am authorized to spare your lives if you surrender unconditionally. Resistance of any kind will result in the recall of my warship and your immediate destruction.”

“Are you a member of this Brotherhood we’ve been hearing about?” asked Murray. The look on his face betrayed his confusion. “What nation do you represent?”

“Yes, I am a member,” replied Hobak. “And I represent all nations, actually. Today a new order is forming on Earth, and there will be a centralized, governing body. Borders as you knew them will cease to exist within days. Earth and its resources are ours, now. As I have already stated, it would be wise for you to surrender yourselves to me without resistance. It will spare innocent lives. No more need die today.”

“How can you do this?” Kaufield demanded, his face reddening. “My mother and father are back on Earth for God’s sake. Is there even anything left of it?”

“You are wasting my time,” Hobak said casually with more than a hint of arrogance. “Please lower your weapons and allow my troops to enter. I will continue to answer your questions as they secure the base.” He smiled again and held out his hands. “Please… think of your comrades,” he said. “We know you have almost eight hundred people – most of them civilians – stationed at this base.”

“We are prepared to evacuate,” Kaufield replied firmly. “All I have to do is say the word and the Pathfinder will be out of here before you can blink twice.”

“That’s a bluff and you know it Captain,” Hobak replied. He stepped forward and looked Kaufield right in the eyes. “Your CAS system remains un-perfected. Without PTP capability, you’re reliant on standard thrusters and just a duck in our shooting gallery. My people will complete the enhancements to your new ship. Now step aside – I will not ASK you again.”

Murray nodded at his two Marines and they turned to take Hobak into custody. The Eurasian spun so quickly that no one had time to react. He picked up one of the Marines effortlessly with both hands and tossed him across the corridor and into the wall. Then his left hand closed just as fast around Colonel Neeland’s throat and proceeded to lift him as well. The Colonel began gasping for breath, and Hobak smiled malevolently at him with an expression of total arrogance.

Kaufield spun to attack the intruder but the second Marine beat him to the punch. Several shots rang out, and Hobak’s smile faded as quickly as it had appeared. He dropped the Colonel and staggered forward, trying to get at the remaining guard. The Marine fired twice more before Hobak finally slowed and toppled backward.

“Don’t worry Private, he forced our hand!” Neeland told the marine who had fired. The man’s face was pale and filled with fear – he was staring in shock at the spreading blood stains on the floor. The Colonel stood up slowly and then cautiously checked Hobak’s unmoving form for signs of life. “Did you see the strength he has?” He moved next to check on the other marine, who – aside from an injured arm – appeared to be okay.

“Yes,” mused Kaufield with frustration. “Obviously, this man has genetic enhancements. And that is a violation of just how many treaties? Well… I couldn’t say just now without a whole lot of research.”

 “Who the hell made him?”

“Obviously, he is a product of this mysterious Brotherhood that we’re hearing so much about today,” Kaufield replied, looking over at the monitor. Its image still showed the motionless soldiers, standing on the lunar surface above while patiently waiting for orders. “But I think our course is clear. We’ve got to get the hell out of here while we still have the chance to do so!”

3: II: Hide and Seek

THE PATHFINDER PROJECT

Chapter II: Hide and Seek

The Command Dome on Pathfinder was bustling with activity when they got back. People all around the cavernous room were moving as quickly as they could, getting the ship ready for launch. In the background, Kaufield could hear the sound of the ship’s maneuvering thrusters warming up as he helped the wounded Marine he was carrying. Murray and the other Marine were right behind him. Curious, Kaufield glanced at the wounded man next to him.

“What’s your name, son?”

“Corporal Benjamin Henderson, sir,” the man replied. He winced in pain as the Captain eased him cautiously into a chair alongside one of the larger computer consoles.

“You stay right here, Benjamin.” Kaufield ordered as he turned to face the others. “Mary, please ask Dr. Simmons to come up here. “I’m pretty sure his arm is broken.”

“Yes sir,” she replied, activating intra-ship communications. “Dr. Karen Simmons, please report to the Command Dome. I repeat, will Dr. Simmons please report to the Command Dome.”

Mary turned back to her console, struggling to keep focused. Amidst the buzz of working people moving past her, she continued to hear comments about the possible destruction of Earth’s population. She couldn’t help but wonder about her family and friends back in Kansas. She had a couple of older brothers and a younger sister... they all worked hard to keep a farm there thriving.

What would things be like now? How many, if any, had survived? She couldn’t help thinking about these things in the back of her mind, but diligently made sure the bulk of her attention kept focusing on the status reports and flashing indicators on the console in front of her.

“Point-to-Point computer is on-line and ready, Captain.” She noticed that Kaufield was standing behind her, rather than joining the rest of the command crew in the dome’s ringed central control center. “Maneuvering thrusters are active. We’re pre-flighted and ready.”

“Anything on motion sensors?” asked Kaufield.

“No sir, but our security surveillance shows the soldiers that were waiting outside the airlock you just came from are busy forcing their way in. They obviously know we’re planning to try and leave.”

Kaufield made his way past Mary down to the center of the Dome. He put his hand on the shoulder of a handsome, young officer wearing a Lieutenant’s uniform. “Thomas says the CAS Drive isn’t ready, Adam.” He said. “So how about we do this the old fashioned way?”

“My brother never finishes his work on time,” Adam Roh replied sarcastically. “That’s why he’s a certified software weenie. Because he doesn’t realize that occasionally you just have to pick up a wrench and hammer on things until they work.” He smiled slightly as he worked, then glanced across the waist-high computers that encircled the center of the dome.

“I heard that,” Thomas said, seated almost directly opposite his brother. “Sometimes I think it’s you that doesn’t understand. These days we’re working with systems that need a gentle kiss now and then… along with a great deal of fine-tuning.”

The tone of his voice brought a smile to Mary’s face. “There’s still nothing on motion sensors, sir, but you should be aware that the enemy soldiers have penetrated the underground airlock.”

Kaufield sat down next to Adam and both took a moment to verify the pre-flight indicators. “Everyone is aboard,” the Captain confirmed. “All outer hatches have been closed. If you folks will do the honors, I think it’s time that we were leaving.”

Mary’s expression changed to one of frustration. “There’s structural damage to the overhead hangar doors, sir,” she reported. “They’re not opening.” The last part of her statement was almost drowned out by a growing roar as the ship’s maneuvering thrusters powered up for lift-off.

“Is the locking mechanism disengaged?” the Captain asked patiently.

“According to the indicator on my board,” she replied. “I can’t confirm.”

“Adam, if you please.” Kaufield gestured overhead, and the Lieutenant smiled.

“Aye aye sir,” he said.

The Pathfinder lifted off the ground and hovered several dozen meters above the hangar floor. Adam carefully verified that the ship was level and then powered the forward thrusters to full capacity. The hammerhead “nose” of the ship lifted up and slowly touched the center of the hangar doors. The ship continued to rise and the doors began to open upward as the large ship continued to push persistently from below.

“Careful Adam,” Thomas warned, “You don’t want to damage any of our critical areas.”

“Don’t worry,” his brother replied. “We’re on a moon, remember? I won’t damage any of your precious wings in this low gravity.”

The ship continued to slowly lift the large doors upward. Despite his confident comments Adam continued to watch the hull stress readouts carefully. He waited patiently until the angle of the doors looked correct and then fired the Pathfinder’s rear thrusters. The doors resisted at first, but the large ship beneath insisted and – unfettered by the lower gravity – they finally reached vertical then passed it. The Pathfinder flew out into the clear and hovered above the lunar surface as the massive hangar doors continued parting – each now fully open and falling toward the distant ground below.

“A gentle kiss and fine-tuned precision flying,” Adam decided, meeting his brother’s eyes. Despite the direness of their predicament, Mary chuckled. Both of the brothers exchanged humorous criticism on a regular basis – she was used to it. But it still was fun to see what a great team they made when they put their minds to it.

“We’re free and clear,” Mary reported.

“Firing main engines,” Adam responded. He glanced over at the Captain. “Any particular destination you have in mind?”

“Let’s head away from our solar system for now,” Kaufield replied. “Our next course is something that we’re all going to have to decide.” He stood up and again placed a hand on Adam’s shoulder. “Good work, Lieutenant.”

Behind him, a kindly-looking blonde woman came through a door near Mary and glanced around the room. Kaufield pointed to the wounded Corporal Henderson, who was still grimacing in pain and trying to relax. Dr. Simmons walked over to the wounded soldier and began examining his arm.

“We’re very lucky to be alive, people.” Kaufield decided.

*     * * *     *

“Somebody please pick one,” ordered Captain Kaufield. On his desk, a computerized map on his monitor showed half a dozen possible destinations. They had discussed the matter for over an hour and narrowed the list carefully. On the overhead monitors, the image of the moon was slowly dwindling as the ship continued moving away.

“I choose somewhere else,” Thomas spoke up nervously. “With respect, sir.”

“Is there something wrong with these locations?” the Captain asked.

“Well, yes. They’re all near radioactive dust clouds like the one shrouding Neptune,” Thomas pointed out cautiously. “Most of the space-based colonies within our solar system have lots of supplies and equipment, not to mention food and water. From the reports we’ve heard, the Brotherhood is attacking anything – be it military or civilian – that could possibly be used as a refuge or temporary hiding place. They’ve been pretty thorough and efficient thus far.”

“I agree,” Colonel Neeland said from his seat next to the Captain. “We have to assume that there are enemy warships waiting at these locations. If not, then they’ve no doubt got scouts flying nearby so that additional forces can immediately transit into the area when called.”

Kaufield leaned back in his chair and ran his fingers through his dark brown hair, then self-consciously became aware of the action and glanced irritably at Mary. She was so fond of commenting, lately, about the flecks of gray beginning to show.

“If you choose somewhere else, then where would you go Thomas?” the Captain asked. After working with the young scientist for so many years, he had really come to admire the young man’s intellect. He had a habit of thoroughly thinking things through and evaluating options before coming to a final, informed decision.

“Right now, we have no idea which bases are occupied or still under attack. So I’d transit to any random point that’s far enough outside our solar system where we’ll be certain to find absolutely nothing,” he said with growing confidence. “With the exception of our CAS Drive, the Pathfinder is ready to go… we have all the supplies we could possibly need for the foreseeable future and we should take advantage of that.”

Kaufield thought for a moment, then looked to Mary for additional comments.

“The Garden and Livestock wings are fully operational,” she pointed out. “We’re built for an extremely long-term exploration of the surrounding galaxies, so we won’t run low on supplies. The only question is whether or not we can get the CAS Drive working.”

“What is a CAS Drive?” Corporal Henderson asked. Dr. Simmons was placing the finishing touches on the new cast surrounding his broken arm as he spoke. “You’ve all been here for several years, but I’ve been stationed at Khyber Base for only a month. All I’ve heard is rumors that you’ve got something that can beat standard Point-To-Point transit.”

“It’s a modified Point-to-Point,” Adam replied. “The project requires lots of hardware and a sophisticated new array of navigation software…” he paused to shoot a dirty look at his brother, “…all working together in order to extend the range of PTP.”

“CAS stands for Controlled Artificial Singularity,” said Thomas. “Basically, the landing bay on the bottom of this ship has a large amount of extra shielding. Once we finish our final set of tests…” he looked confidently back at Adam, “… we’ll be able to generate a small, powerful artificial singularity beneath the ship using enhanced PTP technology. Instead of just carving out a temporary wormhole between points the usual way, we’re creating a temporary power source capable of supplying us with more energy than liquid fuel alone ever could. That’s why we have a sophisticated Observatory built onto one of the lower wings – because we will now have the capability to literally transit farther than we can see.”

“Just because we can doesn’t mean we will,” Kaufield responded. “The Pathfinder was built to take us to other galaxies and to also provide for our long-term needs in case the engines are damaged or become temporarily inoperable. But we’d still have to use Thomas’ previous suggestion during exploratory situations as well. The hull is well shielded… but we want to make sure there’s absolutely nothing dangerous in the area we travel to. Our plans are to approach galaxies, survey the area from the Observatory wing, then transit further from there.”

“Light from distant galaxies and other astronomical phenomena takes so long to reach our telescopes,” Thomas continued, “that we have no way of knowing how much things have changed in the vicinity of the really far away objects. For example, our universe seems to confirm the un-provable – but widely accepted – theory that everything began with some sort of massive ‘Big Bang’. Most of us accept this because if you study them closely – the galaxies in our local cluster are primarily flying apart as if from the result of a huge explosion.”

“Sounds like a looong way to travel to me,” the Corporal replied. He rubbed the new cast on his left arm, took a deep breath and then flashed a grateful smile at Dr. Simmons. “I’m no astronomy expert,” he admitted, “but I do know that the number of stars right here in our own galaxy is pretty astonishing.”

“There are billions,” Thomas noted proudly. “Most of them move in a very lengthy orbit around the center of our galaxy. Years of study has revealed that most – but not all – galaxies are basically spiral helixes like ours and contain a large number of cooling Red Giant stars. Hotter, younger stars like our own sun are much harder to find.”

“There are plenty of them out there,” Adam interrupted, “Amongst all those billions.”

“Well, with so much area to explore in our own galaxy… why go so far out?” Colonel Neeland wondered. “I knew you folks were planning a long journey as part of your project – probably one that left the general area surrounding our solar system – but I had no idea you were planning to explore other galaxies.”

“Exploration on that scale is pretty much impossible with a single ship. We’re more interested in beginning to map out a small section of the known universe,” decided Thomas. “We want to eventually take a look at what’s WAY out there – as far as we can see. That’s why we can’t PTP too far at once. Some of the most distant pictures we have are of gaseous clouds and nebulae… much of which is what we’d expect to find as a result of the explosion that created our universe.”

“However,” Mary pointed out, “Some of the galaxies we’ve studied are over 300 million light years away. And those gaseous nebulae that Thomas spoke of are closer to a billion light years distant. By the time their light reaches our telescopes, we have absolutely no way of knowing if they’re still just dust and debris or whether galaxies with stars and planets eventually formed. So it’s not wise to look before we leap – not without knowing for certain whether the destination is vacant or currently occupied by something.”

“This sounds unbelievable,” Colonel Neeland commented. “For God’s sake, how long would it take for a mission like that? You could explore for years and barely scratch the surface of what’s out there.”

“That’s why Pathfinder has been designed as a colony ship,” Kaufield responded. “We’re capable of leaving… quite literally… for a lifetime if necessary. The ship that was to return from our first mission would quite possibly have to be crewed by a whole new generation of our descendants.”

“We’ve worked so hard on this,” Thomas said, frustration apparent in his tone. “Now everything has changed and we’re probably going to be put on indefinite hold. The government is going to need every ship available to help the survivors from the attack.”

“If there are survivors,” Kaufield pointed out. “It’s quite probable there will be, but we need to determine specifically how many.” The Captain thought for another moment and came to a decision. “Thomas, please plot a standard PTP transit to an area of your choosing. It should be well outside our solar system and make certain that there is absolutely nothing of any significance nearby.” He noted the young man’s innocent smirk with satisfaction.

Dr. Simmons was packing up her medical kit, but she had been listening. “If you don’t mind my asking, sir… then what?”

“Then we launch a shuttle patrol back into our system to see who survived,” Kaufield said firmly. “We need to know if there are surviving ships we can rendezvous with, and we also need to determine how many refugees on Earth are in need of food and medical supplies.”

“If you need me, Captain, I’ll be in the Medical Ward,” Colonel Neeland said. “I’d appreciate it if the good Doctor here will take a look at my collar bone. If it’s not broken, it’s certainly bruised.”

“Follow me, sir,” Karen replied. She glanced at Benjamin – her first patient. “I think you should come, too.” She requested. “I need to run some additional tests on that arm, just to be safe.”

Flanked by the two Marines, Karen left the Command Dome. The Roh brothers watched them leave, with Adam shaking his head once again as his thoughts drifted back to the suddenness of the unbelievable situation facing them. Thomas was thinking about a lot of things too, but he busied himself with coordinate calculation for the ordered PTP transit.

*     * * *     *

Thomas Roh stood next to one of the shuttles in the Pathfinder’s launch bay. He could barely contain his frustration. He detached the wireless transceiver from his belt and activated it, noting that several equally irritated deckhands also stood nearby.

“Captain Kaufield, I think I’ve figured out how the Brotherhood shut down the military’s defensive systems,” he said simply into the transmitter.

“Really,” the Captain’s voice erupted out of a small speaker on the handheld unit. “How?”

“None of the computer systems in the shuttles or fighters down here will activate,” he replied, clearly intrigued. “There’s got to be some sort of ‘back door’ or system virus concealed in the software. When that warship bombed our base, they also shut down all of our support ships. I’m getting all kinds of conflicting diagnostic error messages… reports of environmental malfunctions mostly, even though that system is currently idle.” He laughed darkly and shook his head with disgust. “Our enemy probably had the military crews all worked up about losing air and heat, then popped out of transit and opened fire.”

“Why haven’t we noticed anything with the Pathfinder’s systems?”

“Because, sir, to put things simply… we’re using a completely different type of hardware and software than the rest of our fleet. It’s one-of-a-kind, and specifically developed to integrate PTP with the new CAS technology. We manufactured and programmed everything ourselves at Khyber Base. The Brotherhood apparently couldn’t get to us.”

“So how long will it take to get the shuttles working?”

“Unknown, sir. At least one part of their hidden program is using a randomizer. Instead of our software executing its machine code in the correct sequence, everything is being scrambled like the proverbial egg. It’s brilliant – I would never have found it without a deliberate search if they hadn’t activated it.” There was a long pause as the Captain silently weighed available options. Thomas gave him a minute or two before continuing. “I also have some additional bad news, Captain.” His expression betrayed the deep concern he felt. “When we turned on one of the shuttle’s systems, it immediately accessed the communications system. Not all of the onboard functions are completely useless – there’s a background program running that’s using the shuttle’s PTP computer to determine our location. Those coordinates are being fed directly into the onboard transmitter and broadcast on a frequency we’ve never used.”

“Thomas, shut down all of those ships immediately,” the Captain ordered, “Then let your support staff work on the shuttle and fighter systems. I need you to get to the engine room. I know it will be difficult without setting down on the lunar surface, but I want you to finish calibrating the CAS Drive. I’m going to transit at least one more time and then we’ll try our best to hold still out here as long as possible. I want to be ready to ‘outrun’ the Brotherhood if the need arises. They know about us and will continue to try and pinpoint our location.”

“Understood,” replied Thomas grimly. He turned to one of the assistants standing next to him. “Your best bet for now is to purge the entire software package from each shuttle,” he said. “Install the CAS software in its place, and I’ll calibrate everything to fine-tune everything for the smaller vessels when I get back.” The noticeably agitated assistant nodded and motioned to the other nearby deckhands. “I know it’s a big project,” Thomas continued, “but once we’re done, all we have to do is disable the CAS options and that should allow the shuttles to maneuver using standard PTP.”

“What about the fighters?”

“They’ll have to wait until I can take a closer look at their current software. I can’t say for certain without looking, but we’re probably going to end up flushing their memories too.” Satisfied, he gathered up his laptop and tool kit before heading for a nearby lift that would take him back up into the main body of the Pathfinder.

*     * * *     *

“Motion sensors have detected contacts, sir,” Mary reported. “I have a large target that’s probably a Brotherhood warship and a dozen smaller signals. None of them has responded to my attempts at communication.” Her expression soured. “I think they’ve found us.”

“Any of those ships could be carrying missiles,” Kaufield noted. “Probably all of them are.” He paused for a moment and then pointed at Mary. “Shut down the scanning computer for now. You were using it at Khyber Base right before they started bombing us.” He sat down at Thomas Roh’s station and began typing furiously.

“What are you doing?” Adam asked curiously.

“Plotting a transit out of here!” the Captain replied. “Get us underway. We’re not built for major combat and I’m not going to just hand this ship and its people over to the Brotherhood. They’ve got enough of an advantage as things stand now!”

“PTP computer is ready, sir.” Adam reported. “May I ask where we’re going?”

“Where I was going to send the shuttles,” Kaufield said fiercely. “We’re going to see who’s waiting for us at Neptune.”

*     * * *     *

The reddish-hued radiation cloud that surrounded Neptune was supposedly a temporary presence. Dennis Kaufield had once seen the planet from a distance while on a passenger liner as a child. He remembered looking out the window next to his seat at its curved, sunlit crescent edge and wondering if it would be possible to walk on the surface of a gas giant. Everyone knew the area was rumored to be an official base and probably had at least one colony hidden on a moon somewhere, controlled by the American military.

The Pathfinder completed its faster than light wormhole transit a fair distance away, but still close enough so that telescopes in the Observatory wing could transmit the image to the Command Dome’s monitors. Everything looked peaceful and quiet.

“Mary, please reactivate our motion sensors,” the Captain ordered. “Tell us what you see.” There was a long pause, and – from her position across from Adam, he could see Mary working hurriedly to comply.

“I’ve got lots of targets circling the nebula, none of which are transmitting friendly IDs,” she reported a moment later. “There are at least two large warships and twenty or so of the smaller fighters surrounding them. I’m also getting intermittent signals from within the radiation cloud itself. It’s quite possible that they are additional enemy ships, but they could just as easily be friendlies too. I have no way to determine who is who unless we move in closer. There’s too much interference caused by the radiation in that cloud.”

“I’d like to help you, Admiral Henry, but we’re a sitting duck out here,” Kaufield said softly to himself. “God forgive me, but this is not a military vessel. We have no way of getting through those enemy ships.” He activated a fresh set of PTP coordinates. “Adam, please take us to our next destination,” he ordered. “It’s well outside our solar system, there’s nothing significant of any kind there, and we should be able to hold still long enough for your brother to complete his work. Hopefully he won’t be too irked if we complete one more transit to protect the Pathfinder.”

“Aye, sir,” Adam acknowledged grimly.

4: III: Reality Check

THE PATHFINDER PROJECT

Chapter III: Reality Check

After the most recent transit, things had finally settled down enough for the Captain to order a shift change. Mary Hastings entered the officer’s quarters that had been assigned to her for the duration of the project. She could only imagine what all of the other team members were going through… many of them had brought immediate family members along to their posting at Khyber Base. Whoever was assigning quarters to the hurriedly evacuated population had their hands full today, that was for sure.

Mary sat down on her bed and let out a deep breath, then actually took the time to relax a bit. She still wasn’t sure just what the hell was going on, but it was obvious that everything after today would be vastly different. Would the human race survive? She thought back to the video feeds they’d watched earlier of the Earth being bombed with nuclear devices and shivered.

Next she glanced over toward the computer station on her desktop and shook her head with frustration. Normally she’d be using it to tune into the news feeds and hear what was going on back home. Not today, she thought idly. Picking up a small remote control, she activated the monitor and flipped through the channel settings. Each and every one of them was filled with non-stop static. Unbelievable – not one of the dozens of channels she had access to was able to broadcast anything detectable. Even at this distance from the sun, she should be picking up something from the relay satellites.

She jumped slightly as her door chime sounded. She waited almost a full minute, using the time to put her emotional shields back in place before calling out, “Come in.”

The door slid open and her good friend Specialist Glen Fredericks walked in. He was a tall, powerful man with graying hair and he smiled warmly at her as he gave her a reassuring hug. “It’s quite the situation we’ve got going, isn’t it?”

“I don’t completely know how to handle this,” she replied. “It all happened so quickly that I don’t think most people have had time to really think about everything that’s happened!”

“I know,” Glen replied briskly. “Everyone’s either too shook up to keep their attention focused on their work, or else they’re working their tails off and I have to remind them every few minutes to slow down and not get reckless.”

“How’s the work going down in the hangar bay?” she asked.

“Well, the shuttles are up and running,” Glen replied. “They’ve been reinitialized with a simplified version of the Pathfinder’s navigation program. But I still don’t know what to do about the fighters. They don’t have PTP capability and the new program is quite probably incompatible.” He hugged her again and lightly massaged her shoulders. “It would be easier if Thomas hadn’t been reassigned,” he decided. “That’s why I’m here. I get a quick thirty minute break to eat and then I’m on my way to the Lab wing to join Mr. Roh and company. The rest of our staff will be working long into the night to get both fighters and shuttles back up and running.”

“This is so awful,” Mary said, feeling helpless. “With a communications blackout in effect I can’t even try to contact my family!” she declared. “How are we supposed to know if our loved ones survived?”

“From what I’ve heard, our passive sensors aren’t detecting any communications at all,” Glen pointed out. “That means we have to wait, because there’s nothing more we can do.”

“You’d better get something to eat,” Mary insisted. “Thirty minutes isn’t a long time for a break.” She kissed him firmly on the cheek.

“You’re right, as usual,” he said, smiling. “I think Thomas has his hands full with that CAS program. I’ll go grab a bite and then give him a hand with the calibration procedures.”

“Please check back when you’re through,” Mary requested. “I don’t go back to work until tomorrow morning and I’m going to be sitting here scared to death, wondering what’s going on.”

“Then don’t sit here all alone,” he suggested, standing in the open doorway. “I saw Nori a while back. Why don’t you find Julie and the three of you can spend some time checking out the ship. If I were you, I’d go visit the habitats in the “Livestock” wing. You can watch and feed the animals until bedtime. It will take your mind off of all the bad stuff for a while, at least.”

“You’re starting to sound like my father,” she said, blushing. “Knock it off, buster.” Her smile faded and she thought a moment. “But it is a good idea,” she decided. “I might just have to do that.”

“Great, then I won’t have to worry about you!” Glen replied. “I will stop by and check in tomorrow. Good night, Mary.” She watched the door close behind him, wondering if her world would ever be the same.

*     * * *     *

Kaufield had been sitting in his own quarters reading up on the Pathfinder’s current status for some time. He sat back and shut off the workstation monitor on his desk, rubbing his forehead to try and ease his slight headache. Considering the events of the day, he felt pretty good overall. He was thinking seriously about whether or not to continue reading when the door to his quarters slid open. A nervous looking, freckle-faced twelve-year old boy walked in, smiling as soon as he saw that Dennis was in.

“Dad!” he exclaimed, running over and hugging Kaufield tightly.

“Hello, Joseph.” Dennis replied. He hugged his son back and ruffled his wavy dark hair. “Did the teachers get everyone’s kids accounted for?”

“Yes,” Joseph responded. “Mrs. Anderson was a little grumpy at first, but some of the other kids hadn’t heard the news yet. Once everyone understood we were under attack and needed to get to safety, everyone pretty much cooperated.”

“Lots of the children are still pretty young. I would imagine that it’s going to be hard for some of the parents to decide just exactly what to tell them.”

“I know,” Joseph said. “The teachers are planning to hold a special meeting tomorrow in one of the classrooms. They’re sending E-Notes to all the parents and inviting them to come. Mrs. Andrews said that if we all talk about it together as a group, then it’ll make it easier for the parents to finish talking about it in private.” He twisted his tall, spindly body around, glancing at the wall behind his father’s desk. “You put my picture up!” he declared proudly.

“Of course I did. You’re quite the artist,” Dennis replied. He looked at his son’s hastily-framed rough sketch of the Pathfinder and chuckled. But you did goof up on that rear landing skid, kiddo. The front of it looks a little bit like a cat’s paw.”

“It’s a great sketch and you know it!” Joseph giggled, smacking his Dad on the shoulder. “The teacher said that during the next art class I get to try and draw one of the fighters!” His expression became concerned. “That is, if we’re going to have classes after tomorrow.”

“Yes we are,” decided Dennis. “We’ve been planning to take the ship on a two-month voyage to fully test out her key systems anyway. I think the best thing for everybody right now is to have something to do. I don’t know how long it will be until we can return to Khyber Base or Earth… we need to assess the damage first and determine the status of our enemies. That means the last thing we need right now is everybody sitting around all day with nothing to do but worry.”

“Everybody is scared, real scared,” Joseph told him, frowning. “The adults are trying to hide it, but you can see it in their faces.” He looked at his Dad, who responded by smiling warmly back at him.

“I know, son,” Dennis said firmly but gently. “That’s because a lot of scary things happened all at once. Everybody’s been running their tails off making sure their jobs are done and their families are safe.” He reached across his son’s lap and turned the workstation back on. “And…” he said, grinning, “Everybody needs to relax a little bit. So the first thing that you and I are going to do tonight before people start going to bed is to cheer them up a little bit.” He pointed at the words on his screen. “Read that for me please, and let’s see how well you do as a temporary Captain, my boy.”

*     * * *     *

Mary was on her way back to her quarters after spending time in the Livestock wing with friends, just as Glen had suggested. The activity had cheered her up some, and she sure had enjoyed seeing horses again. If their stay on the ship lasted long enough, she had decided to make a point of scheduling time to actually grab a saddle and go riding.

There certainly was enough room on the vast interior of the Livestock wing’s inner surface. And – if she got bored with the limited riding area – all she’d have to do would be to walk across the catwalk to the opposite side of the wing where the gravity was reversed and the rest of the animals were stored. She was nearly to her door when a soft chime sounded.

“Attention everybody,” said a nervous voice erupting unexpectedly from a nearby wall speaker. “This is acting Captain Joseph Kaufield speaking.”

Mary couldn’t help it, she giggled out loud as she realized that the Captain’s son was using the all-call.

“My Dad wants… uhm… asked me to let you know that everything is okay,” Joseph continued. “We haven’t heard anything further from Earth, but the Pathfinder is in good shape. He says he has a lot of faith in all of the talented people assigned to this project, and we’re going to find a way out of this. So we’ve decided that everyone who’s currently off duty should get their butts to bed and get some rest…” There was a brief pause, and Mary could hear Dennis laughing in the background. “And that’s a direct order from your temporary Captain.” The wall speaker promptly went silent.

Mary laughed out loud as she opened the door to her quarters. After all the things that had happened today, she wouldn’t have thought anything else could possibly catch her by surprise. But that little trick from father and son had certainly done just that. She made a mental note to stop criticizing Kaufield for reading up on Psychology in his spare time.

*     * * *     *

Promptly at 7:00 a.m. the next morning, Captain Kaufield and his senior officers gathered for a status meeting in one of the Pathfinder’s observation domes. Adam Roh was the last to arrive, since he had been assigned to gather each division’s status reports and organize them into an overall summary. He ignored the smell of coffee – man, what he wouldn’t give for a donut right about now – and sat down next to Mary. Among the other officers present she also recognized Colonel Neeland and Dr. Simmons.

“For the purposes of rumor control,” Dennis stated, “This will be an open forum. At the conclusion of our discussion, transcripts of this meeting will be distributed to any interested party.” He took a sip of coffee. “That being said, is it good news or bad, Adam?”

“Mostly good, sir,” Adam replied. “All Project Team members and their families have been assigned to quarters.” He glanced at the hastily printed list in front of him. “Total head count is 897, with 72 of those assigned to Colonel Neeland’s company of Marines.”

“That’s the really good news,” Murray spoke up. “I can have my troops maintain around the clock security on all of the ship’s critical areas. The crew and passengers will see us… but as long as they behave themselves, that will be the extent of it.”

“Good,” replied Dennis. “Since we can handle as many as 1,200 passengers we’re in no danger of over-crowding.”

“Thomas is still working on the CAS software,” Adam responded. “From what he said after working through the night, they’re very close. They actually generated a singularity earlier this morning for approximately thirty seconds.” He paused, checking his notes carefully. “The shuttles are up and running, four of which are currently out on patrol as per your orders, sir. They’re attempting to get as close to Earth as possible. Two of them are due back within the hour.”

“And then we’ll know how bad we got hit,” Dennis commented. “What about the fighters?”

“That project is progressing and that’s all I want to say for now,” decided Adam. “There are earlier versions of the software stored in our computer system. We’re trying to find an update that was issued before the ‘backdoor virus’ first appeared. If we can’t, we may end up having to assign Thomas and friends to review the current code and see if they can correct it.” He shrugged. “Either way, I’d say the fighters are out of commission for at least seven… maybe ten days.”

“That’s not good news,” the Captain said grimly. “Since the Pathfinder itself is for the most part unarmed, we can’t put a single fighting ship in the air until well after the primary attack is over.”

“There is a bright side,” Adam said. “Normally we have a complement of twelve fighter craft aboard. One of them developed computer problems a month ago and was transferred to the Avenger during its last orbit of our base. That means we should be down to eleven fighters.” He paused, smiling. “But I found out from one of our deckhands that the Avenger’s crew has been working on maintenance to its landing bay… plus they were asked to haul a substantial amount of cargo back to Tauron, So her Commander asked if we would store half a dozen of his fighters on the Pathfinder until their planned return trip next week. I guess he needed to free up some room.”

“Seventeen?” guessed Mary.

“That’s right. We have seventeen fighters on board,” Adam confirmed wryly. “None of which can fly yet.”

“Hold the pessimism please, my friend,” chuckled Kaufield, holding up a cautious left hand. “I’ll take what I can get, at this point.”

“As far as ordnance goes, we should be okay for some time. The shuttles each have a rail cannon mounted on their dorsal hull, and the fighters, once up and running, are fully combat capable. Hopefully we won’t see a lot of action, but if we run out of bullets we can always use the manufacturing facility in the Lab wing to melt down our old silverware.”

Kaufield laughed again, and this time everyone at the table joined in. “Okay, I guess under the circumstances we’ll permit some pessimism, as long as it’s subtle.”

“All of the Marines are armed with side arms and rifles,” Colonel Neeland pointed out. “We were able to bring our ordnance stores aboard along with some of the heavier stuff prior to the evacuation. So you’ve also got a limited ground force capability at your disposal if we manage to approach Earth.”

“Which brings us to fuel,” continued Adam. “I was hoping we’d be better off in this category… but our tanks are only 65% full. That’s enough to keep the support ships up and running for almost six months, but not if the Pathfinder continues to use it.”          

“Again, I’m not too overly concerned with that right now,” Kaufield replied. “Just so everyone knows, we’ve got a small-scale refinery built into the Lab wing. We’re not capable of competing with a planetary-based fuel, water, and chemical company in terms of production, but if we find resources we should be able to adequately replenish our supplies. There are lots of planets and moons in this solar system to choose from, but that would require a prolonged landing presence.”

“Speaking of water, that’s not a problem,” decided Adam. “This is a Colony-Class exploratory vessel. We’ll be able to recycle and reuse the water on board almost indefinitely.”

“The fuel isn’t as much of a problem as you’d think, either.” Mary spoke up. “Glen told me that once he and Thomas get the CAS Drive on-line we’ll be able to use the power from the artificial singularity to recharge the system’s batteries prior to opening a wormhole for transit. In other words, once we get the CAS Drive working it should be self-sustaining… and the Pathfinder will only need to use the liquid fuel for basic maneuvering.”

“Good to hear,” acknowledged Kaufield. He turned to face Mary. “The Command Center looked pretty functional last night when I went off-shift. I take it everything is on-line and functioning?”

“Perfectly,” Mary replied. “Almost too perfect, if you ask me. The communications board is completely blank. We can’t hear anything from anybody out there. It’s like the rest of our people have all been completely wiped out.”

“Blown back to the Stone Age, more likely,” grunted Adam.

“Very few attacks in history have annihilated an entire population,” the Captain pointed out. “However, with our limited ability to fight, I have absolutely no idea how we can possibly help our comrades right now unless we find other surviving ships to support us.” He took a deep breath and glanced at Colonel Neeland. “What everyone needs to know is that yesterday Murray and I,” he gestured in the Colonel’s direction, “met with a very human-looking male back at the airlock on Khyber Base. The man told us that he was a member of this so-called Brotherhood of the Dragon. We discovered, during a brief fight, that he was almost certainly genetically enhanced.”

“A genetically enhanced human being?” Dr. Simmons spoke up. “Doesn’t that violate treaty?”

“Yes it certainly does,” the Captain confirmed. “He claimed he was a member of this Brotherhood, and he backed up his claim by demonstrating super strength and speed. He almost took down four of us before we could react. He claimed that he represented no nation, but that this Brotherhood wants to eventually rule Earth.”

“He might be an android,” Adam decided. “The Russians and Chinese are pretty secretive about their technology just as we have always been, but I know they have at times researched the possibility.”

“I don’t think he was an android,” replied Kaufield. “He was shot multiple times and appeared to have human organs and red blood just like ours.” He paused, thinking back to the incident. “He also appeared to ‘die’ from the gunshot wounds. My guess is that he was a human being… just like us. However, he was obviously someone who has received genetic or technological enhancements of one sort or another.”

“Perhaps both,” Karen suggested. “Did you bring his body aboard? If so I would be very interested in examining it.” She noticed Kaufield grimace as she spoke.

“Unfortunately,” he told her slowly, “I didn’t think of that. I could kick myself if it would help, but with everything happening so fast it just slipped my mind.”

“You mean like making sure you helped me get my wounded Corporal to safety,” Murray interjected. “Captain, during a combat situation like that all kinds of things happen and even when we’re carefully trained… sometimes your instincts still just take over. It’s what keeps us alive, the adrenaline rush that overrides our normal tendency to be curious.”

“Thanks, Colonel, but it is still a wasted opportunity,” the Captain decided. He sat back in his chair and took a deep breath. “Okay, where were we?”

“This Brotherhood wanted to kill us too?” replied Adam.

“That’s right, unless we surrendered immediately and unconditionally. So I for one am glad we’ve got a full complement of Marines aboard,” Kaufield stated confidently. “The tampering with our support vessel computer systems was completed quite some time ago, so obviously our government has been infiltrated at the highest level. That means we might even have one or more enemies within Pathfinder’s crew.”

“You’re certain you want to release an unedited transcript of this meeting?” inquired Adam. “We could have a large scale panic on our hands… or at the very least – paranoid passengers.”

“That’s exactly why I want everyone to know what’s going on,” the Captain replied. “As I said, telling people the truth and controlling rumors is very important in a situation like this. Let our security people do their jobs.” He pointed at Adam. “If someone notices you didn’t use mouthwash this morning, I really don’t care. However, if one of our passengers sees somebody tampering with any of our computer systems – that we will need to know about.”

“I used mouthwash this morning,” Adam stated hesitantly. Again, the officers at the table laughed in response.

“Karen, what’s our Medical status?”

“Excellent, for now,” Dr. Simmons replied. “I have a staff of fourteen doctors and dozens of the best nurses I could ever hope to work with. In addition, a lot of the technical specialists working on the Roh brothers’ CAS system have experience working with heavy duty medical hardware. So our Medical Ward is ready for action.”

They continued discussing their situation for another half hour. The meeting had to adjourn unexpectedly when two of the shuttles on patrol suddenly flashed into view, back from their survey. The Captain quickly ended the meeting and dismissed everyone.

With Mary at his side, they returned to the Command Dome. Both took their seats, and Mary activated an exterior visual on one of the monitors. Both of the shuttles were visible, flying side by side as they floated gracefully back toward the Pathfinder.

One of them was trailing debris from its Starboard flank and seriously shook the Pathfinder upon landing in the hangar bay. The Captain immediately ordered everyone back to their stations before activating an intercom terminal on the conference table.

“What’s going on down there?” he asked.

“The shuttles are back on board, sir,” an on duty deckhand replied. “One of the shuttles left some serious debris behind on its initial touchdown, but everyone in the flight crew is okay.” He sounded almost annoyed. “I think they dented the hangar floor!”

“I’m glad they’re all right,” the Captain said. “Please have them report to the Command Dome as soon as they’ve completed their post-flight protocol.”

“Acknowledged.”

*     * * *     *

It didn’t take long for Kaufield to get his wish. He was sitting quietly in his seat wondering about the status of the other two shuttles still out on patrol when the door behind him opened. Two men walked in, both with their faces flushed from sweat and combat fatigue.

“Earth has been completely devastated by the Brotherhood, sir,” one of the two pilots said, saluting the Captain briskly. “There are dozens of fighters patrolling every major planet, moon, and space station. I also counted at least eight capital warships spreading out in preparation to conduct a more detailed sweep of the solar system. They’ve got us, sir. There’s absolutely no fighting going on anymore, and as soon as we turn on our motion sensors to count the ships in the area their missiles start flying at us.”

“What’s your name, son?”

“Terry, sir. Lieutenant Terry ‘Dashboard’ Benson.”

“And you were unable to determine if any of our people survived?”

“No sir. You should see how many enemy ships are patrolling the system already… with more transiting in all the time. We spent the last part of our trip dodging missiles, and one of the smaller fighters got the drop on us. If we hadn’t initiated an emergency PTP transit when we did, they’d have had us.”

“Good work, you two. Go change out of your flight suits, clean up and get some chow,” the Captain ordered. He spun in his chair. “Mary, please call Captain Andrews up here,” he requested briskly.

“Nori’s on one of the two shuttles still out on patrol, sir,” Lieutenant Benson reported. “She relieved one of the other pilots and insisted on going.”

“That sounds exactly like her,” replied Kaufield, frowning slightly as he watched the pilots exit the Command Center. “I guess that means we’re going to have to sit back and wait for the other patrol to return before we can determine our next course…”

He was abruptly interrupted as everything around him began to tremble. The entire hull of the Pathfinder vibrated briefly, then just as suddenly everything was still again. From her seat, Mary turned around and looked at him with an expression that said everything. What now? Their moment of surprise was brief, though, because the intercom next to Kaufield lit up.

“Captain Kaufield?”

“Yes, Thomas – what is it?”

“Please activate monitor five. It’s the exterior camera located on the back of the forward landing skid. We use it to observe our trial runs while inside the ship.” The Captain motioned to Mary, who quickly complied with Thomas’ request.

Another of the overhead screens lit up with a live visual of the ventral underside of the hangar bay. Everything looked normal, except for a thin metallic arm that had lowered from the bottom of the hull. At its tip was a small white ball of light that pulsated brilliantly. It was impossible to tell how large the energy sphere was, but from the perspective they were viewing it from it was obviously pretty small. There was no mistaking it, though, because the visible light signature emanating from it was so bright.

“Now that looks pretty interesting, Thomas. Are you getting closer?” the Captain asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

“As a matter of fact, we’re done,” Thomas said proudly. “Despite the fact that your pilots were shaking the ship earlier when I left strict instructions for us to hold perfectly still, we’ve finished.” The Captain could hear someone in the background asking a question. “That’s right,” Thomas said in reply to whoever it was. “Save the current computer model and all its settings. That’s exactly the way we want everything set for our first distance test.”

“So you’ve finished up, have you?” queried the Captain.

“We certainly have, Captain Kaufield.” Thomas said. Despite the slight, electronic distortion in the voice transmission Kaufield could clearly hear the glee in his voice. “I am most pleased to report to you that the Pathfinder’s CAS Drive is on-line and ready for use.”

5: IV: Boomerang

THE PATHFINDER PROJECT

Chapter IV: Boomerang

It didn’t take Kaufield long to find his way down to the Laboratory wing. He raced along one of the “moving sidewalks” on the top passenger deck until he reached the rear of the ship and then used a lift to descend to the lowest deck. From there he simply walked toward the two armed Marines standing next to several large sealed doors. They nodded curtly at the Captain and one of them politely opened the nearest hatchway for him.

Although he had been through this procedure before – at one time or another – on all of the Pathfinder’s wings, he still found it very intriguing whenever he visited one of them. Each had its own unique characteristics, but the overall technology that allowed all of them to function properly was surprisingly similar. He moved through a short corridor that angled approximately 45 degrees downhill at first but then appeared to level out. Dennis paid very close attention as he progressed, but again was unable to tell just when the artificial gravity shifted to make the flat, inside surface of the Starboard wing the new ‘floor’ beneath him. The transition was almost completely undetectable.

He emerged into a large one-story room that was almost completely filled with computer equipment and manufacturing hardware. Although the walkways were a bit cramped, all of the space was actually very efficiently organized. Some of the larger machinery that the Project Team requested had actually been re-designed by private contractors so that it could fit in a room with only seven to eight meters from floor to ceiling. He continued walking out into the center of the rectangular room and couldn’t resist taking a quick glance at the far wall on the opposite side. Most people unfamiliar with the Pathfinder wouldn’t even guess that to his left and right were the walls forming the edges of the wing. Even harder for newcomers to grasp was the realization that the distant wall in front of him connected to one of the ship’s rear landing skids.

“Over here, Captain,” Glen Fredericks called out to him. He and Thomas were standing next to a large console with open laptops and other equipment covering its surface. On the monitor in front of them the first sustained, controllable artificial singularity ever created continued to flare brightly.

“What’s your status?” the Captain asked cautiously as he moved next to Glen. “From what I’ve heard it looks like you’ve made some pretty decent progress.”

“Affirmative, sir,” Thomas responded. “Our backup batteries were down to 47 percent but I’ve already used the singularity’s energy to fully recharge them.” He paused, a little frustrated. “The Brotherhood attacked us too soon, Captain. If we had spent just a couple of more years researching this technology, we’d have been able to find a way to use this new, renewable energy source to power a weapon.”

“Are you planning to join the military in the near future?”

“No, sir, but with the attack on Earth and everything…”

“I know, Thomas. But we’re an exploratory vessel caught in the middle of an all-out war. I’m itching to take a shot at this ‘Brotherhood’ myself, but for now we’ve got to worry about the health and safety of everybody aboard the Pathfinder first.” The Captain paused long enough to smile reassuringly. “Even so, we do have to prepare for our next encounter. Did you read my E-Note?”

“Are you talking about that really lengthy document you sent asking me if we could use the CAS Drive to attack other ships?” Thomas again looked frustrated. “I read it and your plan is doable, but it would take perfect timing and I really don’t think an unarmed vessel like ours should venture into a battle zone without an escort.”

“I want you to set up a practice model and begin running drills anyway,” ordered Kaufield. “Have one of your teams start on it as soon as we’re finished here. The pilots from the shuttle patrol that just came aboard said the Brotherhood has completely captured our home solar system. They’re also sending out patrols of fighters to search for and attack any survivors. They could locate us at any time now and I want us ready to go. Call it Contingency Plan Delta.”

“What about our standard PTP engine?” Glen asked. “How long do we continue using precious fuel for what will shortly become our backup engine system?”

“Only until we’re certain the CAS system is totally reliable,” Dennis responded. He glanced past Glen to a pair of technicians cleaning up the remains of a smoking laptop.

“That was an accidental, preventable overload and it won’t happen again, sir.” Thomas promised. “We’re ready to go, and I’m going to prove it to you.”

“How are you going to do that?” the Captain asked, extremely curious. “Describe for me how the CAS system is as reliable as Point-to-Point transit.”

“Because it’s the same thing as PTP… except that it’s a thousand times more efficient,” Thomas insisted, growing somewhat irritated at what he perceived to be criticism. “The major difference is that we have gained access to a much more powerful energy source. This allows us to use only electronics instead of the traditional combination of electronics and fuel-driven mechanical hardware. We can now quite literally extend the range of our transitional jumps as far as we want to. It’s kind of like the computer revolution, or a better comparison would be the difference between analog technology and digital.”

“Thank you Thomas, I’ve grasped the basic concept. Now, if I were a skeptical politician from Washington D.C., how would you describe to me the details of the CAS Drive along with its capabilities?” Kaufield wondered aloud, continuing to apply subtle pressure. He needed to know just how dependable this new technology was in order to prepare for the inevitable command decisions that would be needed.

“Well, I would ask you – the politician – to take about a dozen years of college first and then prepare for a six hour lecture,” replied Thomas. “Everyone always says we scientists should talk in layman’s terms. Well,” he said firmly. “The basic model for generating the singularity is saved – we can duplicate it at any time instantly.” He pointed at his console. “So in layman’s terms all I have to do is press this button to turn on that!” He glanced casually at the tiny orb of energy still burning on the monitor’s visual.

“And the next step?” queried Kaufield.

“I’d like permission to send out and retrieve a Canary probe,” said Thomas confidently. “The only question I need answered is – where do we send it?”

“Where do you want to send it?” Kaufield prodded. He knew full well that he was dealing with a scientist.

Thomas grinned with enthusiasm. “Where I’ve wanted to send it since this project began,” he said matter-of-factly. “Let’s send it to Bravo Point.”

“Agreed,” replied Kaufield. He watched Thomas grin from ear-to-ear and promptly busy himself at his workstation.

“We’ve got twenty-eight Canary probes on our inventory sheet. Plus the schematics for their design are on file, so we can manufacture more of them if needed.” Thomas activated a program on his console and watched the status readouts carefully. “A Canary probe is detaching from the bottom of the hangar bay and moving into position beneath the ventral wings.”

Beside him Glen was watching the status reports on his own work station. “The coordinates are set and the CAS Drive is on-line and ready.” He reported. “Main projector is active and responsive. I’m reducing the size of the PTP window to match the Canary’s specifications. The probe has locked onto the transit portal.” There was a brief pause and then both Glen and Thomas were smiling.

“Canary probe has transited away, Captain.” Thomas said proudly. “And the PTP projector is holding steady. Using the energy supplied by the singularity we can hold the window open at the target point from here. The probe is programmed to fly forward a thousand meters, taking pictures all the way, then return to its origin point. That will bring it right back here.” He checked his console cautiously. “Probe should return in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 …” There was definite tension in the air as the Captain watched the technicians concentrate fully while handling their new system.

“Well?” Kaufield said after a pause. “What’s the word?”

“The Canary probe is back and returning to the hangar bay,” said Thomas. “I’m downloading the images it took and routing them to our monitor here.” Above his laptop a series of dark images began flashing quickly by at high speed. Most were completely black while others had a speck of light or two on them. It wasn’t until the final pictures flashed by that Thomas stopped the replay and backed up a few pictures. Curiosity getting the better of them, some of the other technicians had walked over to join the group. Everyone gasped in awe.

On Thomas’ overhead monitor they could see three Galaxy star clusters. Two were beautiful, complex spiral helixes with lots of curving arms. The third was also spiral in shape, but it was mostly a ball of very distant stars with only two major arms visible – one on top and the other at its bottom. Both of the visible arms in the third Galaxy curved clockwise on the image. Also scattered amongst the three larger Galactic clusters were a series of tinier, dwarf galaxies.

“It worked!” Thomas grinned euphorically. Glen smacked him proudly on the back and then shook his hand. “It worked!” Thomas said again. “One of those is our home Galaxy, the other two are in the local area.” He shook his fist in triumph and turned to meet Kaufield’s gaze. “I’ll let that D.C. politician of yours take a guess as to which of those three is our home Galaxy,” he commented dryly.

“The Canary traveled that far instantaneously?” gasped one of the lower-clearance technicians standing next to Glen. “That’s unbelievable!”

“Yes it really is something!” Glen admitted proudly. He glanced at the Captain. “That was a medium range PTP. The further we send the Probe the more risk is involved. That’s because the longer transits emerge in completely unknown territory – we have no idea whether objects are moving in the area, what the gravitational forces are like, not to mention radiation levels…” He trailed off for a second. “It’s almost incalculable how many risk factors are involved. We’ve even theorized that if we send the Probe too far, the PTP ‘window’ we leave open could conceivably drift away before the Canary is able to return.”

“So there is some danger involved,” the Captain pointed out.

“Oh, always,” Thomas said in reply. “But that’s why we designed the smaller PTP field for use beneath the hangar bay. We’re using the Canary Probes to look before we leap and completely minimize the risk to the Pathfinder. We simply pick a reasonable size distance and send a Canary ahead first to make sure the immediate area is safe.” He nodded firmly. “The Probe has radiological and other warning systems on board. You can consider the site we just surveyed as labeled safe for transport in our computer catalogue, sir. We could take the ship there right freaking now!”

“Hold on a minute. Just what do you consider to be a reasonable, medium range transit?” Kaufield asked inquisitively. Despite the fact that he was supposed to be unshakable and maintain a Captain’s image he found himself getting more and more excited at the prospect of using the CAS engine. “Just how far was that? If we’re seeing whole galaxies in those pictures, it’s got to be pretty darned far…”

“The computer reports 7.12 million light years.” Glen couldn’t conceal the astonishment in his voice as he spoke the words.

“7.12… million?” Kaufield almost fell over, but managed to maintain his composure.

“Confirmed,” Glen replied. “It works just like in the playbook, Captain.”

“Bravo Point indeed,” Kaufield noted, laughing nervously before nodding with satisfaction. “I’ve been reading status reports and projections regarding the potential of this project for years,” he said, “and sometimes we still can’t believe such a thing is possible until we see it done – right before our very eyes.”

“What are your orders, sir?” Thomas asked thoughtfully, his growing curiosity blatantly evident.

“Assign some of these colleagues of yours to work on my Contingency Plan Delta,” he decided. “Then I want you and Glen to run two dozen more Canary Probe tests to that same destination. If you score 100 percent success on that, pick a secondary, closer destination and run two dozen more tests. Let’s see how reliable this new CAS technology is.” He turned to leave. “I’ll be in the Command Center if you need me. We’ve still got a pair of shuttles on patrol out there, and I’m very interested to hear what they’ve found.”

“We’re on it!” Thomas replied, walking over to Glen’s workstation. “I think we should send a copy of the data we downloaded from the Canary over to the Observatory. They will be very interested in this.”

“Oh, I’m certain of it,” Glen said, still a little bit stunned by what they had just done. “Those scientist ladies are going to want to kiss us… one can hope.”

*     * * *     *

Adam Roh was seated comfortably in the shade of a large apple tree. Above him several birds chattered happily as they worked on constructing a nest. He had gone off-shift several hours prior and decided to spend the time reading in an outdoor atmosphere. His right hand was accessing Pathfinder’s schematics on his laptop, while his left held the remains of an apple that had fallen from the tree and landed next to him. The technology to maintain proper gravity, lighting, and other environmental conditions for the ship’s farming and ranching areas was rather detailed… he still had a few areas he wanted to brush up on. Off in the distance he could see civilians and several off duty personnel walking around, admiring the rich farmland that surrounded them.

The artificial gravity systems didn’t cause Adam a bit of concern any more – his team was getting so good at simulating planetary conditions that most people couldn’t even tell the gravity field changed as they moved from one area of the ship into the next. He shook his head – slightly amused – as he opened an E-Note from Thomas that consisted of two words: “It works!” Off in the distance he could hear a hatchway open.

“Oh, wow… this is great!” said a young boy’s voice. He glanced absent-mindedly up from his laptop and smiled at Joseph Kaufield’s expression.

“Welcome to the Garden wing, kid!”

“This is absolutely fantastically marvelously seriously great!” Joseph repeated, running happily over to Adam. Just look at this place!”

Adam decided to take the young man’s advice – he put aside his laptop, stood up, and surveyed the area as he took another bite from his apple. Surrounding him were the rest of the fruit trees in the immediate area. They were both standing in the smaller space near the exits reserved for trees, bushes, and other fruit-producing plant life. Stretching beyond the fruit-producing area were organized, rectangular sections of farmland dedicated to growing the various crops that they would need to survive. There were tall cornfields, golden yellow sunflowers, and row after row of shimmering wheat.

“Do you like it, Joe?” Adam asked, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“It’s great!” Joseph laughed, a wide smile lighting his face. “It’s just like being on Grandma and Grandpa’s farm back in Iowa.”

“It’s even better than that,” promised Adam. “I take it this is your first time here!”

“Yes, at least since everything was installed. And it’s the coolest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Well, if you want to see something even cooler…” Adam smiled back at the kid and pointed upward.” He watched the expression on Joseph’s face as the kid slowly looked upward.

“Oh, wow Adam is that ever great!”

The two of them were standing on one of the port wing’s flat surfaces. The total height from surface to surface was roughly thirty-five meters – the distance comprising the total width of each of Pathfinder’s upper “wings”. Approximately twelve meters above them was a suspended ceiling that divided the wing completely in half.

They stood firmly planted on four meters of Earth’s finest topsoil – carefully surveying the complex ceiling of lights, environmental controls and windowed openings far above. Through those glassless, open windows they could see the other surface area of the port wing where the gravity was reversed. That locale was also coated with richly fertilized topsoil and covered with trees, grass, and growing things. The depth of the ground varied around the two farms – dropping from three to two meters – in some places it was only one. The distance downward changed mostly based upon the needs of the vegetation planted at each location.

“Keeping some varieties of trees from growing too high has really been driving our botanists crazy,” Adam commented. “But all of your Dad’s specialists have little details to work out in their respective areas of the Sciences.”

“You’ve got two farms!” Joseph giggled with delight. “Dad didn’t tell me you were going to do that!”

“Why waste the other flat surface?” Adam replied boldly. “But it’s actually four farms, because there’s a Livestock wing on the other side of the ship – and that one has a farm plus animals on both of its sides, too!”

“That’s where I’m going to ask Dad for permission to visit next,” decided Joseph. “This is just cool beyond words!”

“The suspended ceiling that divides the surfaces regulates gravity on both sides, provides simulated ranges of sunlight, generates a range of wind activity and even waters the crops occasionally,” grinned Adam. “I’ll bring you in here some time when it’s raining.”

“It rains in here too?”

“Yup. And for half of the year the other side of this wing and one side of the Livestock wing also have cooler temperatures and snow. The growing things we planted over there are the varieties we brought on board that need all four seasons in order to grow properly.” Adam found himself absolutely delighted by the look of wonder on the young boy’s face. He instinctively had an idea. “You must have turned left when you came in. If you had turned right you would be way over there…” he pointed upward, to the other Garden above them, “Standing by yourself and looking up back at me!”

“I want to do that!” Joseph decided, noting that he could already see the tops of the heads of several people walking around on the other side. “It’ll only take a couple of minutes. Will you wait here for me while I go over there?”

“Sure,” Adam responded. “But first take a look at this.” He reared back and threw the remnants of his apple upward as hard as he could. The already-browning core flew directly toward the ceiling, then stopped several inches from its surface and hovered… suddenly completely still. From slightly behind him he could hear Joseph’s delighted laughter. “That’s right where the gravity for our side begins. It’s really a simple setup if you understand the concept, but it confuses the hell out of the birds and insects.”

“Now how do you get the apple back down?” Joe asked, intensely curious as he watched the floating piece of fruit.

“The maintenance crew will find it when they do their next check,” Adam pointed out. “It’s how I say hello to them and let them know I’ve been by admiring their work. I’ve done it before and I will do it again.” He chuckled. “Now go run over to the other side and look up until you see me – I promise I’ll wait here for you.”

Adam Roh picked up his laptop and closed it as he watched the boy run off. He stood proudly on one side of the Garden wing. Particularly when viewed through a child’s eyes, the Project Team really had created something truly extraordinary. What he hadn’t told Joseph were the basic dimensions of each wing surface – roughly 600 meters by 400. Together both wings and their four surfaces yielded approximately 240 acres of farming and ranch land – plenty of area to feed the 900 people currently aboard ship. Although, the young scientist decided, having recently noted the shortage of actual livestock in the Livestock wing… it was quite probable that their diets would consist mostly of poultry, fish, fruit, and vegetables for at least a while longer.

*     * * *     *

Two quick flashes of light lit up the local area of space as a pair of shuttles emerged from faster than light transit. They drifted casually forward, toward the distant lines of the Pathfinder. Captain Nori ‘Siren’ Andrews glanced out the forward window and adjusted her ship’s course slightly. She had been Dennis Kaufield’s Air Group Commander on Khyber Base for over four years. After the attack on Earth, word had gotten around pretty fast that the shuttles would be up and running first. With the fighter squadron relegated to the backseat for the time being, Nori had decided that there was no way she was just going to stay behind on Pathfinder while her pilots went out to search for enemy ships.

“Siren to Pathfinder, reporting in as scheduled,” she said casually, glancing out a side window to make sure the other shuttle was holding a stable course flanking hers.”

“Siren, this is Central Command,” Mary transmitted back. “Please proceed to the forward – I repeat… forward – hangar bay. There are two teams in the Lab wing conducting CAS Drive experiments and they have asked us to arrange a temporary detour for your patrol.”

“Roger that, Lt. Hastings,” replied Nori, taking a good long look at the brilliant white flashes of light still emanating from beneath the ship. “What the devil are they doing down there? Did they suddenly decide to start welding all the hull plates simultaneously?”

“Negative,” Mary stated briskly. “From the reports that I’ve heard, they’re making some very significant progress with the CAS Drive. They’ve generated a controlled singularity, and that’s what’s causing the commotion.”

“Now there’s some good news for a change,” decided Nori, “because we certainly don’t want to be hanging around this area much longer.” She glanced over at the shuttle holding course beside her. “Lightning, you may as well take your bird in first – I’m sitting pretty from this angle.”

“Copy that,” the pilot of the other shuttle replied eagerly.

*     * * *     *

“Did you get close enough to Earth to determine if there are survivors?” Dennis asked cautiously. Nori and her pilots had landed, gone through post-flight and immediately reported to him on the Command deck. She sat down in one of the empty chairs next to Kaufield and motioned for her companion and fellow pilot Walter ‘Lightning’ Douglas to do the same.

“There are survivors,” Nori informed him. “We were unable to get close enough to visually confirm, but we did capture plenty of distant images which can be enlarged.” She pulled her curly, cinnamon hair back into a bunch and knotted it quickly to keep it out of her way as she continued her report. “We were able to determine that most of the blast points targeted the major cities and other key military targets. Lots of the suburban areas and smaller cities and towns are radiation damaged, but completely intact.”

“So we have no way of determining whether this Brotherhood is taking our people prisoner or executing them?”

“Not at present. If you want to try and take some of our ships in closer, that’s your call,” concluded Nori. “But it would be a major risk. There are huge capital ships and fighters all over the system, camped out behind moons, occupying our orbital facilities… it all goes on and on.” She paused, reviewing the images in her mind once more. “As far as I can tell, no significant military assets remain under our control or are available to assist us. We detected absolutely nothing on the military and civilian Comm-traffic… every channel remains completely silent.”

“What do you think, Walt?” the Captain asked carefully.

“We got a lot of practice, sir, turning our motion sensors on and off as fast as possible, then transiting to a new location. Any time we got close enough to detect anything, all of the contacts were enemy fighters, communications drones, or those huge, unknown warships.” He shook his head, grimly. “I’ve got family back home just like everybody else but we simply can’t get to them – not without additional firepower to back us up.”

“I would imagine there were a lot of stragglers like us, Captain,” continued Nori. “Just thinking about the number of civilian ships that are in flight at any given time – it boggles my mind. And we found absolutely nothing friendly.”

“We are so lucky to be alive,” decided Kaufield. “There is just no way around it – as thorough as this Brotherhood has been. They’re going to continue looking for refugees and stranded vessels of any kind. If they find us, they’ll most certainly try to capture or destroy us as well.”

“Bet on it!” Lightning commented bitterly. “You learn fast out there… keep the PTP computer ready with a new transit destination or else you spend most of your time dodging missiles.”

“I’ve been trying to avoid making a decision on this matter because it’s such a tough call – the possibility that we might have to choose to leave those survivors behind. Here we sit… ready to assist with food and medical supplies.” The Captain growled, his irritation obvious, and threw up both of his hands helplessly.

“If we go back you better break out the bullets first, Captain.” Nori warned darkly.

“Fortunately we have another option,” the Captain said, activating the Comm-link on his chair. “Thomas, how are you boys and girls doing down there?”

“100% success, as requested sir,” Thomas replied. “We’ve run 127 test flights to eight different target destinations and everything is working perfectly. We’re still using the same Canary probe that we started with.” He paused momentarily before adding, “My esteemed colleagues report that Contingency Plan Delta is also ready. Say the word and we’ll give this mysterious Brotherhood a solid knock on the forehead!”

“You’re not planning on attacking them, Dennis – are you?” Nori asked with obvious disbelief. “The Brotherhood already own every asset we had but this one. You can’t risk turning this ship over to them too!”

“They’re not getting this ship,” Dennis insisted firmly. “I’ll order it blown up first. And they’ll never get the technology, either. We left a ‘virus’ of our own called C-4 behind at the main computer on Khyber Base and we can just as easily destroy the Pathfinder.” He paused, thinking through the options that he had already been silently reviewing for most of the day. “The CAS Drive gives us a lot of choices we wouldn’t ordinarily have… such as the unique capability to travel very far away to a point where they can’t get to us. We can carry out our mission to explore Galactic space and return at any time we choose. That will give our surviving military assets – if they exist – time to regroup and organize a counter-strike. It’s quite possible that we could end up coming back in a few weeks and using this ship in a relief effort after all.”

“We passed a lot of debris on our patrol, Captain,” cautioned Nori bitterly. “I didn’t see anything that indicated even one of our military vessels survived, let alone anything sizeable enough to launch a counter-strike.” She glanced over at Walt and the grim expression on his face matched hers. “We can’t get to those people on Earth. I have family there too but we can’t help them. That’s probably why we haven’t run into other ships – because they’re doing the same thing we should. They’re pointing to a random point in the sky and saying ‘Let’s go somewhere – anywhere – so that we have a chance to keep the human race alive’.”

The Captain sat quietly, deep in thought, for several minutes. “Nevertheless, that will be our secondary objective,” he decided. “To PTP away means we leave the Brotherhood in control, at least for the time being.” Dennis was not a man who got upset very often but Nori could see the anger lining his features as he spoke.

“The primary objective, then…” she prompted.

“I want Lightning here to report to the hangar bay,” said Dennis. “And please pick up Corporal Henderson on your way down there. He’s been on limited duty since his arm was broken and I think he’s earned a seat on a trip into the history books!”

“Yes, sir!” Walt said, rising to his feet. He quickly exited the Command Dome.

“Nori, you’re with me,” Kaufield ordered. “I want you to join me in the Lab wing, where Thomas Roh will proudly demonstrate for you our new tactical advantage.”

“Aye aye, Captain,” was the enthusiastic response.

*     * * *     *

“Are you sure the Captain said I earned this?” Ben Henderson asked as he stepped aboard the shuttle and sat down in one of the empty chairs.

“Absolutely,” one of the pilots next to him responded. “I’m Lieutenant JG Bruce ‘Hopper’ Mendez and I’ll be sitting right beside you on this trip, Corporal.” Bruce took a seat next to Henderson and began activating the ship’s electronic systems. It had been fully refueled and was ready for another patrol. “That is, if you need your hand held,” he needled mercilessly.

The pilot in the front seat glanced back and smiled. “Hello,” he said cheerfully. “My name is Walter ‘Lightning’ Douglas… I’ll be your pilot for this trip.”

Henderson still looked very skeptical. “I don’t know if I trust a branch of the military that has to give its troops an extra name. Why do they call you ‘Lightning’ anyway?” He held up his uninjured right arm and wiggled his fingers. “Are you really fast or something?”

“No. They call me that because the first time I flew a fighter through a target range, I never hit the same spot twice,” Walt replied, chuckling. “I have a tendency to land that way, too.” He fired the shuttle’s engines and it began to move slowly forward at first before finally accelerating out of the Pathfinder’s hangar bay and into the empty darkness of star-speckled space beyond.

“Oh, that’s very funny. Very funny,” Henderson replied. He glanced over at Mendez next to him. “So why do they call you ‘Hopper’?”

“You don’t want to know, sir,” Bruce cautioned.

The shuttle maneuvered carefully beneath the Pathfinder’s hangar bay and drifted back gradually between the larger ship’s lower wings. Henderson noticed the brilliant white flicker of the artificial singularity – still burning brightly at the tip of the metal wand that extended down from the hangar bay’s lower hull. Behind it was a rack of neatly organized Canary probes, the additional units from the inventory list that Thomas had mentioned.

“You mean we’re the guinea pigs on this ride?” Ben practically shouted. Hurriedly he began fastening the safety belts on his seat. “That’s my reward for getting thrown against a wall by a genetically enhanced mutant?”

“Relax, this is technology that’s been fine-tuned for years already,” grinned Bruce. Despite his confidence he had a slightly tense expression on his face as the pulsating white light surrounding them grew brighter and brighter. “Although no human has ever officially completed a CAS transit before. We’re going to be in the history books, even if this fails.”

Henderson remained firmly unconvinced. “Wait a damn minute… aren’t we supposed to send some sort of animals through first?”

“Pathfinder this is Lightning,” Walt said briskly. “Shuttle Four is in position and awaiting your go command.” He eased back on the thruster controls and the small cargo vessel slowed almost to a complete stop, drifting forward just ever so slowly.

“Shrinking PTP window to match shuttle specs,” Glen’s voice stated informatively. “We have a go. Prepare yourselves gentlemen.” He had barely finished the words before a huge greenish flash filled the windows. Almost instantaneously the windows went completely black… they were staring at an all-encompassing, empty black void. All three of them sat quietly for a moment, a little disoriented by the sudden change.

“Where are we?” Ben finally asked cautiously. “I don’t see anything out there.”

“You shouldn’t,” replied Walt. “We call this Bravo Point. It’s been our first planned destination for several years.”

“Well you could have picked a better one,” Ben decided. “If you’re exploring space, shouldn’t you travel to places where there’s something to see?”

“By ‘something to see’ do you mean this?” Walt asked, laughing with amusement. The shuttle rolled forward until the Galaxy clusters suddenly appeared in the front window. The view was virtually identical to the pictures Thomas had transmitted to their computer prior to lift-off. Beside Henderson, Hopper smiled in delight as the Corporal’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped in absolute awe.

“Lightning, this is Pathfinder. Can you see anything?” Glen asked. “Was your trip to Bravo Point successful?”

“I’m pretty sure we’re here,” Walt responded carefully. He too found himself very impressed with the spectacular display of star clusters. “Hopper, what do you read?”

“All systems confirm the transit completed successfully,” Bruce said, a big grin on his face. He surveyed the mass of readouts scrolling across his monitors. “Although I am unable to detect the PTP window at the target coordinates.”

“That’s okay, it is still there,” Glen insisted. “If it wasn’t there’s no way you’d be receiving this transmission. Make your five minute survey and then return to base immediately. Don’t worry – if anything goes wrong and we’re unable to hold the window open for you we’ll move the Pathfinder to your location. If that contingency develops, make certain to move a safe distance away… we will emerge precisely where you did.”

“Now that’s what I call a reward!” decided Corporal Henderson, smiling from ear to ear. He couldn’t take his eyes off the wondrous, glittering star-filled galaxy clusters.

*     * * *     *

Adam had just showered and changed clothes when his door alarm chimed. He ran a comb through his hair and wiped the rest of the shaving cream off of his face. He quickly splashed on a bit of cologne, then called out “Come in.”

The door opened and Nori entered. She had a huge smile on her face and quickly hugged him. “It works, Adam, it works!” she said excitedly. “We just transported a shuttle over 7 million light years and then returned it successfully.” She couldn’t contain her enthusiasm. “You should have seen the looks on the faces of the crew when they got back. I want to go next!”

“Thomas will be extremely pleased with himself,” Adam decided. “Nothing drives him like success.”

“He’s not the only one,” predicted Nori, leaping into his arms. She kissed him passionately and found him instantaneously returning the favor. His huge frame dwarfed hers, and he carried her effortlessly over to the bed. The clean shirt he had put on two minutes before landed on the floor next to them.

“Okay Siren,” he said somewhat suspiciously, gazing directly into her beautiful brown eyes. “Just remember that we’re both professionals on this ship and I don’t need you tempting me into anything that will get me into trouble. These quarters aren’t nearly as private as the ones we had on the base, so if they call you Siren because you scream a lot – I want to know now.”

Nori slowly, slowly ran her hands up his chest and then down his sides. Unable to resist, he kissed her this time… longer and more intensely than their first.

“Think of me as a warning alarm,” she replied coyly. “I’m letting you know that as of this moment until early tomorrow morning you – are – in – extreme -- danger. From this, for starters…” Her tongue unexpectedly found its way into his left ear.

He kissed her again and casually began taking her top off. She turned her back to him and pushed her hair aside so that he could unhook her bra. “I think this is going to be more like an air raid,” he decided. “Everything’s going to be happening all at once for about ten minutes – then there will be nothing but peace and quiet.”

“And then after an hour or so, the cycle will begin again!” Nori whispered in his ear as she playfully nibbled away at the lobe. They both landed on the bed laughing and Adam slapped the button on the night stand next to his bed. Around them, the lights dimmed.

6: V: Memorial

THE PATHFINDER PROJECT

Chapter V: Memorial

Dennis Kaufield was already on the bridge that second morning after the attack. Mary arrived early for her shift, still smoothing the wrinkles from the front of her blouse as she walked into the Command Center. The Captain was sitting next to her station rather than in his usual seat near the exits. He was busily making adjustments to a new laptop that had been installed during the night shift.

“Good morning.” Mary said pleasantly, taking a seat and beginning a survey of her console. The motion sensor readouts were all clear, and the person she relieved smiled gratefully before heading off-shift. She busied herself for several minutes but was unable to resist teasing the Captain a little. “More CAS equipment?” she asked casually. “The only difference between men and boys is the size of their toys.”

“Perhaps you’ll change your mind if this toy ends up saving our ship,” responded Dennis. He swiveled the laptop toward her. “This is one of our newer models, with a dedicated touch screen. It’s been tied into your motion sensing system so that any objects detectable in the immediate vicinity will instantly be identified as friendly, enemy, or neutral targets and displayed on screen.”

“Fortunately there’s not much else out there right now,” decided Mary. Like her own console, the display screen he was showing her was blank except for a white dot and a larger brown dot.

“The white dot is the Pathfinder,” he continued. The brown dot is the large asteroid that we’ve kept between us and our solar system just in case an enemy patrol PTP transits into the area looking for us. Watch this.” Dennis grinned, pressing his index finger onto the screen’s surface. The monitors above them flashed and Mary noted that the white dot on her screen was now blinking up at her from the other side of the brown dot.

“Instantaneous PTP capability,” she guessed, glancing over at Dennis with an impressed smile. “You can move the Pathfinder to any short-range location with the touch of a finger. Now that could prove very useful if we get surprised by enemy ships.”

“It is a crucial part of the contingency plan I’ve been working on with Thomas,” Kaufield noted. “We will still need to use the computer to coordinate the longer transits, but the touch screen – when tied in with our motion sensors – works very effectively for shorter trips around our immediate vicinity. The system knows where everything is, so all I have to do is press my finger where I want to move the ship and – zap – we’re there.”

“What’s the colored, vertical rectangular band on the right side of the screen for?” Mary asked, suddenly becoming very interested in the new hardware.

“It’s for Z-Axis three-dimensional maneuvering,” chuckled Dennis, picking up on the curiosity in her voice. “Your motion sensing equipment gives us the X, Y, and Z coordinates of each target in the local area. However, the screen is limited to a two-dimensional  X and Y display. By using one hand for the touch screen area and the other for Z-Axis scrolling, I can specify plus or minus Z coordinates and PTP us directly to the same height or depth of a target as easily as moving across the X and Y area of the screen.”

“Ships using standard PTP would have a much more difficult time managing the shorter distances,” Mary commented. “The whole concept of Point-to-Point was created because it takes too long using standard thrusters to move between planetary bodies. It would seem the CAS Drive has other advantages than simply increasing the distance we can travel to.”

“You have no idea, Mary,” said Kaufield. “The precision of this new system is literally breathtaking. It’s working exactly as we theorized so we’ve got a definite edge on the Brotherhood if we run into them again.” He touched the screen again, hopping the Pathfinder back to its original position. Once again the brown dot was between the ship and their solar system. “The computer has been programmed with safeguards, too. If I accidentally touch a spot that’s already occupied by one of the targets… well, at least one X, Y, or Z coordinate must meet a safe distance parameter or the trip is automatically cancelled and a warning tone will sound.”

“Are you planning some kind of attack on the Brotherhood?” she asked.

“Contrary to what most people believe, no.” Dennis said firmly. “But I do have every intention of trying to determine for certain whether any of our people survived. If we can possibly locate and provide relief to them then that’s what we’re going to do.” He paused, continuing to work with the new equipment. “However, I do believe that in trying to find survivors an encounter with the Brotherhood is very probable. That’s why we’re working so hard to be sure we’re ready for them.”

“Are you coming to the Memorial ceremony that they’re holding in the Chapel this afternoon?” asked Mary. “I don’t know if you heard, but the Chaplain is planning to say a few prayers and honor the memory of all those who have died.”

“Yes – I’ll definitely be off-shift by then,” Dennis replied. “I have to stop by my quarters and pick up Joseph, but we’ll be there.”

*     * * *     *

Mary felt a lot better later that day after the prayer service concluded. She sat near the edge of a pew, watching all the people file past her and back out into the corridors of the Pathfinder. Some of them wore military dress uniforms as she did, but most were civilian technicians, science specialists and their family members. Captain Kaufield and Joseph had sat next to her, but she had softly commented to them that she wanted to remain behind for a few more minutes and so they had left with the others.

The Chaplain was an older Priest and his words were wise. He had gracefully counseled them to accept the things that they could not change, also pointing out that – although many had died – everyone should hold out hope that at least some of their family and friends had survived and would fight back. It would be awfully difficult for even the Brotherhood and their surprise attack to have exterminated everyone. Such an outcome was almost unthinkable to most, and his words were more than a little reassuring to them.

The Chapel was located in a dome-shaped auditorium a short distance behind the Pathfinder’s Command Dome. It had been a short walk for her after going off shift but she had still arrived a few minutes late and had almost missed getting a seat. Fortunately Dennis and Joseph had made room for her or she would have had to sit in one of the extra chairs that had been hastily set up at the rear of the large room. They had quickly filled in after she sat down, giving the Chaplain a full house to talk to.

Standing prominently alongside one of the large, open exits near the rear of the Chapel was a statue of Jesus Christ with his arms open and extended in greeting. Half of the traditional ‘stations of the cross’ lined the left wall of the dome next to her, situated equally apart all the way to the altar at the head of the Chapel. Images of the remaining stations hung along the right side of the dome all the way back to the second doorway behind her. Between the images were tall, thin stained-glass windows through which the stars of space were mostly screened. There was, however, an oval skylight above them that allowed an attractive view of the heavens beyond. Other artwork in the Chapel included colorful, decorative wall hangings, handmade banners suspended from the light fixtures that descended from the ceiling, and a series of tall candles that adorned the altar itself.

Mary sat quietly for a few minutes longer, unable to leave just yet. Her thoughts were focused on her two brothers and sister – wondering if any of them could possibly still be alive back in Kansas. She noticed that others had stayed behind, too… still seated at various points in the auditorium and saying silent prayers to themselves or crying gently. Her good friends Julie and Nori had been unable to attend due to being on-shift at the time of the ceremony, so she concluded her silent prayer by wishing their families good luck too. Glen had also not shown up, and that disappointed her more than anything. As she stood to leave she noticed Corporal Henderson, his left arm protected in the new cast and sling, smiling at her. He walked over and politely said hello.

“Praying for your family?” Mary asked, slightly uncomfortable as to just what to say to others after such a hideous tragedy. Adults of all sorts had been talking around the uncomfortable truths they had recently faced all day. That was the challenge after all, during a crisis like this one. Offer comfort, but do so tactfully by at least partially ignoring the brutal violence that they had been witness to.

“Yes, and also saying thanks to God for sparing our lives,” the Corporal responded quickly. “I’m still not sure if I believe in Intelligent Design or evolution or the possibility that a predestined plan might already exist for each of us, but after yesterday I’m even more confused than ever!”

Despite the sad occasion, Mary smiled, recognizing him. “You’re the Corporal they sent along in the shuttle to Bravo Point yesterday.” She offered him her hand.

“I am,” replied Henderson. “Corporal Benjamin Henderson at your service.” He shook her hand firmly. “Pictures can give you a very detailed idea of what’s out there, but you wouldn’t believe what that trip was like,” he said firmly. “As far as we could see everything was so absolutely black and empty – then whammo – the ship changed its position and there were these Galaxy clusters that just looked so… so huge and beautiful and organized and… created.”

“I’ve seen the pictures,” Mary commented. “Even if they are simple photos, it is quite spectacular.”

“It’s a sign, I’m telling you,” insisted Ben. “It’s a sign that we were meant to survive – us having the technology to travel like that right when all hell breaks loose.”

“Be careful Ben,” warned Mary. “It’s good to have faith, but any counselor will tell you that developing the spiritual part of yourself takes time. There are a lot of people on this ship right now who feel the exact opposite of the way you do because they’re still in emotional shock from all that’s happened. They’re blaming God for abandoning us.”

“It’s tough on me, too. I’ve been temporarily reassigned to lighter duty,” he commented. “I can’t stand just sitting in my quarters doing nothing… and to top it off this cast just keeps itching to no end.” He rubbed the covering on his left arm for emphasis.

“Then volunteer for something during your off duty hours,” Mary suggested. “The Lab and Observatory wing personnel have a lot of extra work right now, storing and processing all the new data we’ve received. The Canary probes and your trip recorded an awful lot. Even if someone assigns you simple busy work it’ll keep you from worrying too much and you’ll be contributing something back. Or…” she paused, thinking through the possibilities, “You could visit the kids in their school rooms. I know for a fact that they’re still holding classes because the Captain’s son attends. I’m sure they’d love to hear what it’s like to be a rough and tough Corporal who took on a member of the Brotherhood.”

“There were four of us,” Ben pointed out, chuckling. He quickly added, “But I got the best grip on him and he got the best grip on me. That’s why I was the one who landed against the wall! So I guess you could say I was the closest of anybody to capturing him alive.”

They continued to chat for a bit, but were unexpectedly interrupted by raised voices from the rear of the Chapel. Turning, they noticed that the Chaplain was doing his very best to calm down an angry, red-faced civilian male. Their curiosity raised, both walked back to join the two.

“What seems to be the problem here, Father Dixon?” Ben asked carefully, watching the frustrated civilian out of the corner of his eye.

“This fellow belongs to a religious sect that doesn’t recognize traditional Christian symbols,” the Priest explained cautiously. “So he’s naturally a little bit upset that this is the only Chapel aboard the Pathfinder.” He shrugged helplessly and addressed the angry looking man. “Give us time to set up additional areas…”

“How am I supposed to worship my God with those other pagan images in here?” the man exclaimed loudly. “It’s absolutely outrageous I tell you!” Ben watched the man work himself up to an even angrier state, then cautiously tapped him on the shoulder.

“Do you mean to tell me,” the Corporal asked carefully, “that Earth has suffered a nuclear annihilation, we’re out here fighting for our lives, and you’re upset because the ship that saved you has a few statues you don’t like in its Church? Do I understand you correctly, sir?”

“Yes!” the man shouted back heatedly. He took a second look at Ben’s sizable frame and lowered his voice slightly. “Yes. My spirituality requires complete lack of distraction while I meditate – something that is practically impossible in a setting such as this.”

“Why don’t you close your eyes while you’re in here, then,” the Corporal suggested. “Or better yet, meditate in your quarters. That would eliminate the problem.”

“This is a public Chapel. It’s supposed to be open for use by everyone. They shouldn’t have any Christian images in here as far as I’m concerned. Otherwise those other related religions are validated as legitimate, and that’s something my sect does not permit.”

“They are legitimate. The Pathfinder’s Chapel reflects the entire ship’s crew,” Mary argued softly. “We have representatives from many nations and every major religion aboard. There are even people serving with us who don’t believe in God… they still come here to meditate or ask the Father’s advice. Our Chapel was intentionally designed to acknowledge, respect and honor the religious beliefs of everyone on our project team. It’s a reminder of everything that Earth has been historically and respects today’s modern blend of cultures.” She gestured toward a stone replica of the Ten Commandments.  “Like you, many people have a favorite religion that they subscribe to.” She paused for a moment, trying and failing to understand the man’s point of view. “This Chapel is a tribute to your faith as well. Send us a symbol or two, and I’m sure that the Chaplain will find a place for them.”

The man pointed toward the altar. “I can’t meditate in there,” he snapped. “And being on this ship is not my fault. I was supposed to have been transferred off of Khyber Base a month ago, but there was a delay in assigning a replacement for me.”

“You’re really something else, you know that?” growled Ben irritably. “And I don’t mean that as a compliment. You should consider yourself lucky to be alive.” He shook his head before continuing. “If you can’t meditate in the Chapel, that’s just fine and dandy by me. Do it in your quarters. Move along.” He nodded to Father Dixon and turned to leave.

“Did you hear me? I can’t meditate in there! I demand that you do something about it!” the man repeated. He grabbed the Father’s arm seconds before Ben slapped the hand away and stepped ominously in front of him.

“Did you hear me?” the Corporal asked. “I said move along – now!”  He pointed toward the exit and the angry man slowly began edging cautiously backward. “If I hear that you’ve bothered Father Dixon again, I’m going to come find you and show you an alternative form of meditation… it’s called unconsciousness! Do you understand me, fella?”

“Yes, sir.” The man said, frowning deeply. He turned and stormed off in a huff. The Corporal stood shaking his head, then turned back to the Father. “It looks like there’s a bad apple in every bunch,” he noted.

“There are a lot of people on board who are just as upset,” Father Dixon replied. “They don’t know if their families are alive or dead, where they’ll end up next, or even what their lives will be like in the near future…” He flashed a wan smile. “I don’t think it’s the little things they complain about that are truly bothering them – it’s the larger possibility that everyone they knew and loved may be dead.”

“The stress comes out as anger displaced onto other, normally minor things,” Mary agreed. She chuckled to herself. “I’ve been bothered by little things too that I would normally just shrug off and just deal with.”

“Yes, but you and those other people aren’t making a public nuisance of yourselves,” stated Henderson. “Right now we need people to behave themselves, not stir up a pot of trouble over nothing.” He pointed toward the exit behind them. “If that guy gives you any more trouble, you just let me know,” he said firmly. “I mean that.”

“Don’t worry,” the Chaplain said confidently. “Part of my job is to listen to people get rid of the negative emotions that are bothering them. It’s not the first time someone’s had harsh words for me and it won’t be the last.” He paused, smiling warmly. “So many people are still under the mistaken impression that the symbols you pray to or how often you go to Church are the most important things. I do believe in important family and Church traditions, but I’ve also tried to remind people that giving reasonably of their time, treasure, and talent should be our biggest priority. The more we help and care for each other, the better off society will be as a whole.”

Ben glanced out the exit after the angry man who had just left. “Not everyone shares your enlightenment, Father,” he observed wryly.

*     * * *     *

It wasn’t until Glen put his hand on Thomas Roh’s shoulder that the young Software Specialist realized he had been staring at the same sentence on his computer screen for quite some time. He took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair, absently rubbing his forehead to clear his thoughts. Glancing up at Glen, he tried flashing a friendly smile but still couldn’t conceal the fatigue that he felt.

“I think you should go and get some rest, young Thomas,” Glen suggested. He sat down next to the younger man. “You know as well as I do that bad sleeping habits increase the probability of error.”

“I agree,” Thomas replied. “Unfortunately, as my brother Adam is so fond of pointing out – rarely does rest get work done.”

“You are not your brother,” countered Glen. “Your body is telling you it needs a break, and I think that you should seriously consider getting something to eat in one of the galleys and then turning in for a few hours.” He held up his hands. “After all, I’m here. I have a couple of hours left on my shift and fresh personnel just came on board. Trust me, we can handle things.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Thomas said absently, trying to rub the tension from his neck. “There are still two shuttles not working properly… the larger ones. I was planning on taking a look at their software.”

“It can wait. This was your priority, and the rest of this project is downhill from here,” said Glen reassuringly. “We’ve got everything working according to specifications… so try and take it easy a little bit. You’ve been running full steam since the attack and your next scheduled shift isn’t until tomorrow morning – so get out of here and go get some sleep!”

“Make sure the refinery technicians continue their enhancements,” cautioned Thomas. “I signed off on the last of the paperwork so they should be on it within the hour.” He paused, glancing around the spacious Laboratory at its complex equipment and busily working personnel. “If we continue to use the CAS Drive we’re going to continue using the Canary probes too. Since they use liquid propellant to power their thrusters, an increase in our reserve supply should be one of the next priorities.”

“I’ll be sure to check on them,” Glen promised, watching the young scientist head toward the exit hatches at the ‘top’ of the wing.

7: VI: Flux Control

THE PATHFINDER PROJECT

Chapter VI: Flux Control

Two days later there were still no friendly communications of any kind detectable. Captain Kaufield continued to hold status meetings at least once a day, where options were reviewed and possibilities discussed. They could not, however, dismiss the large number of civilian scientists and families on board. The Pathfinder was a ship of exploration… every debate came right back to that simple fact. To try and mount some kind of attack against a trained, disciplined military with as many unknowns as the Brotherhood was simply impossible. If they stayed where they were they would eventually be discovered. If they tried to approach Earth to look for survivors and provide relief they would almost certainly invite an immediate attack.

Many people were starting to show definite signs of stress, frustration and fatigue. The Captain had naturally observed this and discussed the situation with Dr. Simmons. Her advice had been to evaluate the situation until he was certain of the facts and could make informed decisions. To let anyone rush him – and his command crew – into quick choices would only invite disaster. In his spare time, off-shift and in his quarters with Joseph, he took a few minutes to pray for guidance. He didn’t realistically expect any divine help, but his spirituality had strengthened since the death of Joseph’s mother and he wanted to continue maturing as a Dad. Sorting through his thoughts and taking a few minutes now and then to reflect helped him keep things in perspective. He also made certain to take advantage of the opportunity to laugh and joke with his son.

He had noticed in life that you could never indefinitely delay a tough choice. As his own father had told him repeatedly as a kid, “Failing to make a decision is itself a decision. It is a decision to do nothing.” Sometimes just moving from one day to the next could also change a situation’s perspective. Life, as a whole, sometimes demonstrated the unique tendency to evolve on its own. This proved to be the case for the crew of the Pathfinder on the fifth day after the attack.

Early in the morning on that day a general alarm sounded. Kaufield was already dressed and preparing to head for the Command Dome so it took him only seconds to finish putting on his jacket. He quieted a sleepy Joseph and urged him to stay in bed for now – Dennis promised to stop by and check on him later. The Captain exited his quarters and headed toward the lifts at the front of the ship. As he strode briskly along the moving sidewalk he could see the look of concern on the faces of the people moving past him to his left. Above them on speakers he could hear Mary using the all-call, urging civilians to return to their quarters for their own safety.

“Status?” he inquired, striding quickly onto the Command Dome and taking his seat.

“We’re receiving a distress call, sir,” Mary reported, glancing cautiously back at him. “The language is Chinese and it appears to be an automatically repeating beacon of some sort. The message states very clearly that they have survivors and are asking for any nearby ship to rendezvous and attempt rescue.”

“When did it start?” asked Kaufield. He stroked his chin, extremely intrigued by this news. It was the first communication of any kind since the aftermath of the attack on Earth.

“We began receiving it ten minutes ago. They say they were able to escape from the initial attack but ran out of supplies and had no choice but to come back.”

“Distance to target?”

“The signal is originating from a point inside our solar system, approximately 4.63 light minutes away. The transmission is confirmed as Chinese, and as far as I can tell it appears to be civilian.”

“Opinions?” the Captain queried. How often did a situation instantaneously change from a waiting game into a decision game? Dennis didn’t know for certain, but it had happened right now and it would no doubt happen again.

“It has to be a trap!” Adam said, frowning in frustration from his station across from Mary. “It just has to be. After all this time you’re telling me that they transited back into a combat zone looking for groceries?”

“Wouldn’t you, if your people were starving to death?” inquired Dennis.

“Captain, it’s a trap,” insisted Adam. “Everyone on this side of the sun has picked up that transmission by now. If it is legit they’re going to lure Brotherhood vessels right to them.”

“We are required to respond to distress signals by naval tradition,” the Captain reminded everyone sternly. “It seems to me the longer we wait the more likely we will encounter the enemy.” He touched the Comm-link on the arm of his chair. “Thomas, prepare to implement Contingency Plan Delta. We have a situation up here and I want the CAS Drive revved up to full capacity immediately.”

“Acknowledged.”

“Adam, calculate the neccessary coordinates to take us to the source of that transmission and relay them to Thomas’ station immediately.” Kaufield stood up and walked over to his new station next to Mary. The laptop was on and functioning as the Captain took his seat next to the Lieutenant… he tapped several entries into the keyboard and activated the motion sensor tie in.

“Yes sir,” stated Adam firmly. He busied himself at his workstation and permitted himself to glance up once and meet Mary’s eyes. She was calm and professional as usual, but took a moment to return his look of concern.

Kaufield opened the Comm-link again. “Hangar bay, this is the Captain. We have an emergency situation and potential combat scenario up here. Are your people ready down there?”

“Bring ‘em on, Captain!” Nori replied enthusiastically. “Colonel Neeland and his men have everything set up, just as you requested.”

 “Thomas?”

“We’ve got a hot singularity, Captain. The CAS Drive is on-line and ready to go. Just say the word and we’ll activate your computer. Once we arrive control will automatically transfer to your Delta console. If things get too hot, you can just punch out and relinquish control to us. We’ll immediately return the Pathfinder to this location.”

“That’s what I wanted to hear,” the Captain replied. “Let’s go see how many people we can rescue before the Brotherhood shows up.”

“The first thing you’ll want to do is have them shut off that damned beacon,” Adam growled, clearly irritated by the situation. “Although I’m almost certain we’re already too late.”

“Open a PTP portal and initiate transit to the source of that transmission, please,” the Captain requested. “We’ll have time to second guess a bad decision later.” He thought about the tactical data on the enemy he had been reviewing over the past several days. “I hope,” he whispered softly.

*     * * *     *

Mary targeted the ship they found using motion sensors and focused the cameras mounted on the Pathfinder’s landing skids so that they displayed its image on the overhead monitors. Most of the ship’s hull was pockmarked with holes and completely opened to space. The vessel hung suspended and nearly motionless, completely dark and powerless. The instant the Pathfinder emerged from transit the Command Center’s alarm klaxon changed from warning status and immediately called for general quarters.

Lieutenant Hastings was their resident expert on motion sensors, but Dennis no longer needed to ask her for information. His laptop screen lit up with red enemy contacts in front and behind. Most were smaller vessels – more than likely fighters – but he noted that one of the signals registered as one of the larger warships. Curious, he switched one of the monitors so that its optical pickup targeted the enemy warship. It was difficult to see at first against the background of space, painted mostly black. It hung there, right in front of them, sporting a long, cylindrical nose nearly as long as the Pathfinder. Its design was meant to be intimidating.

“I told you it was a trap,” Adam said dryly.

“That’s okay – we needed to know for sure,” countered Kaufield.

“It’s a carrier,” the elder Roh noted. “Those are landing bays hanging beneath the triangular wings in the engine section. I recognize the style – it looks as though the vessel’s construction was based on an obsolete design. The Chinese constructed a prototype but could never solve the power distribution problems for a vessel that large. It was going to be the largest military vessel ever constructed that could still land in a planetary atmosphere.”

“So the Brotherhood of the Dragon obviously has access to plenty of fuel,” Kaufield guessed curiously.

“If you need a target, sir, it’s probably in the wings.”

“There are two fighter patrols behind us, consisting of twelve ships each,” Mary announced briskly. “And there’s a smaller task force of ten fighters in front of us with the warship behind them.” The information was useful to everyone else – Dennis had already reviewed the situation and made his decision. He activated the ship’s all-call.

“All hands, stand by for battle maneuvers.”

“The fighters are launching missiles at us, Captain. There are at least a dozen incoming targets. The mother ship is also launching ordnance.” He studied his console warily. “The warship missiles are hot… probably nuclear tipped.”

Kaufield studied the situation carefully and adjusted the Z-Axis setting on his monitor. “This is a perfect way to bait surviving ships by using destroyed ones. I wouldn’t be surprised if they have traps like this set up all over our solar system.” He shook his head grimly. “Try and take advantage of our compassion…”

“They don’t have to waste time chasing down the survivors because they know we’ll come to them and try to save our people,” commented Adam. “What kind of cold-blooded monsters would do this?”

“Based on what little we’ve learned about this Brotherhood, my guess is that they are not known for being compassionate,” said Kaufield. “I would imagine that’s why our military has so far been unable to successfully engage.” On his screen, two dozen missiles now spiraled closer and closer to the Pathfinder’s position.

To put things simply, the Captain had run out of patience. Giving the enemy no warning, he rapidly touched the screen in front of him ten times. As the incoming missiles approached the large starship it suddenly executed ten transits in quick succession exactly 90 degrees to starboard. A series of bright flashes lit up the area between the fighter patrols as each transit completed almost instantaneously in rapid-fire sequence. Obeying their programming, the smart missiles hesitated briefly to search for and acquire the new target before changing course to pursue.

Carefully, the Captain adjusted his Z-Axis setting to minus 1,200 meters. He tapped the screen again. The first hop brought the Pathfinder down to the same level of the fighter patrols closing in from behind them. Five more quick flashes and the ship moved within firing distance. The lead fighters instantly began shooting at the starship, but one more tap of the screen by Kaufield caught the enemy pilots by surprise again as the Pathfinder reappeared behind them.

Some of the incoming missiles flew cleanly through the two fighter patrols, still seeking their assigned target, while others detonated. At least three of the smaller fighters were destroyed by the unexpected turn of events and half a dozen more suffered damage from flying shrapnel.

“That’s not bad, Captain,” Adam commented. “You’re successfully using our new ‘edge’. Their PTP technology can’t possibly keep up with ours – we’re leading their missiles around by the nose.”

“Thank God your brother and Glen got the CAS Drive working,” Kaufield said gratefully. “Or we wouldn’t have been able to risk a rescue mission – not without the ability to defend ourselves.”

The surviving fighters in both patrols spun quickly around and accelerated in pursuit of the Pathfinder. Many of them quickly narrowed the distance to the starship, pinning it between their position and the remaining missiles arcing in the background. The instant the fighters launched another wave of missiles Kaufield began tapping his finger on the screen again. “I guess you didn’t learn the first time,” he commented with a dry smile.

Another series of twelve flashes lit up the local space, this time curving back and gradually upward toward the main battle group. The missiles quickly turned to follow, only to find their target was again executing a rapid sequence of transits to port. Mechanically programmed to be patient, they paused again to recalculate target coordinates before resuming their pursuit.

“Did you notice?” the Captain asked carefully. “On the first pass through the fighters, did you spot the differences in the missiles that they launched at us?”

“Yes. Some of them are armed only with proximity detectors,” Adam said, smiling for the first time in quite a while. “They couldn’t identify the fighters as friendly and detonated as soon as they detected a nearby object.”

“That’s right. It’s a saturation technique meant to destroy a target before it can react. But some of the missiles have better programming and didn’t detonate. They’ve acquired the Pathfinder as their sole target and I would wager that they will follow us indefinitely until we destroy them or they run out of fuel.” Again he touched his laptop screen and prompted their ship’s CAS Drive, executing a rapid-fire series of PTP jumps. As the short-range hops continued to confound the enemy, Kaufield suddenly thought of a new wrinkle.

“Thomas, if I position the Pathfinder above that civilian ship would you and Glen be able to temporarily retake command of our CAS Drive?” He continued moving his fingertip across his console as he spoke, keeping the Pathfinder constantly skipping to new locations and thereby impossible to reach.

“Certainly – what are you planning?”

“I want you to do your PTP shrinking process, like you did with the probe and the shuttle.”

“I get it. You want us to roll a transit window across the civilian ship – where do we send it?”

“Into the enemy warship, where else?” the Captain said angrily. “That asshole who confronted us back on Khyber Base really pissed me off. I want to send his friends a message.”

“The civvy is pretty big,” Thomas replied. “We’re supposed to shrink the PTP field for smaller ships. If Glen doesn’t reduce it enough we could risk catching the edges of the Pathfinder’s lower wings in the transit.” He paused to let the seriousness of his comments register. “You can understand that we DOWN here think that would be bad.”

“Then transit part of that ship, for God’s sake!” growled Kaufield brusquely. “I’m setting my clock at thirty seconds to target. As soon as we arrive I’m going to transfer control to your station. I need you to transport the civilian ship into the warship and then return PTP control immediately to my station. We’ve still got at least two dozen missiles stalking us.” He continued pressing his finger softly against the screen’s surface and sending the Pathfinder quickly to half a dozen new locations. The maneuver separated the incoming missiles from the fighters. The enemy ships didn’t seem to mind at this point in the battle – they were busy merging into a single strike force and taking up a defensive posture in front of the mammoth-sized mother vessel.

“Before you give us control, I need you to move us to a point thirty meters above the civilian ship, Captain,” Glen specified. “Please center the civvy as close as possible beneath the Pathfinder.”

“Thirty meters and centered? Is that all?” demanded Kaufield sarcastically. Another question occurred to him. “Do you mean thirty meters from the bottom of the hangar bay or thirty meters from the bottom of the lower wings?”  There was no immediate answer, so he hastily glanced at the civilian ship’s Z-Axis setting and used his scroll bar to set the next destination to arrive at plus one hundred meters above it. “Adam, please stand by on thrusters. When we arrive at our destination I need you to lower us from one hundred to within thirty meters.”

“Do you mean thirty meters from the bottom of the hangar bay or thirty meters from the bottom of the wings?” Adam repeated cautiously. He ignored the dirty look Kaufield shot his way.

“Initiating CAS transit to the civilian ship.” He pressed his finger firmly on top of the screen’s second white dot – it represented the only other friendly target in their area. The monitors above them lit up with the familiar PTP flash and he could hear cheers coming from the still open Comm-link – apparently they liked what they saw.

The Pathfinder’s hull rumbled slightly as her thrusters fired. Adam’s face was a frozen mask of concentration as he quickly lowered the starship the rest of the way downward. His expression remained unchanged for almost thirty additional seconds before he looked up at Dennis and nodded.

“It’s now or never, Lab wing!” Kaufield shouted excitedly.

“Transferring Delta console control now,” Thomas excitedly informed him.

At almost the same instant they heard Glen reply, “Shrinking PTP window.”

On the Captain’s motion sensor screen, the huge red target representing the enemy warship noticeably wobbled. “My guess is they noticed that,” the Captain commented.

“I’m returning CAS control to you Captain. As before, just hit the panic button when you want us out of here.”

“Acknowledged – and good work gentlemen!” said a pleased Kaufield, intensely focusing on the incoming missiles that were still tracking the Pathfinder. Another series of screen taps and the ship was hopping quickly across local space directly toward the newly organized, integrated fighter patrol. Once again Kaufield paused long enough to tempt, then skipped the Pathfinder between the smaller fighters and the larger mother vessel. The fighters reacted much more quickly this time, but several more were still picked off as the relentless array of missiles passed through them a second time. The rest immediately altered course and continued their rush toward the Earth starship. Kaufield took a quick look at the monitor above him.

One of the triangular wings on the warship had broken off and was drifting away. Most of the central mass within the engine section of the huge starship had become a bizarre, blazing mass of molten metal. The huge ship began tilting awkwardly to one side – its XYZ coordinates on Dennis’ console indicating that the warship was entering an uncontrolled spin. Thus far, the decision to use the remnants of the civilian ship against them was proving to be extremely helpful as the enemy starship had so far been unable to fire a second wave of missiles in their direction. Again, Kaufield opened his Comm-link.

“I hope you’re ready down there, Nori,” he said somewhat nervously. “We’re only going to get one chance at this.”

“Just say the word, Captain,” replied his air group commander confidently. “We’ve got the Colonel’s ground based missile launchers set up down here and ready to fire.”

“What about the recoil?” Kaufield asked, curious. “Last I heard, you still weren’t sure how you were going to handle that.”

“No problem,” she replied. “We drove a couple of the heavier forklifts onto the back of the missile launchers. They’ll hold the whole setup in place, and absorb the recoil.”

Like a stone skipping across a pond, the Pathfinder continued its series of transits and skittered unpredictably toward the damaged Brotherhood warship with enemy missiles following closely behind. The ship’s rail guns finally began firing at them – again too late as the Captain pressed a forefinger to his screen and instantaneously hopped them to the far side of the enemy mother ship. The fighters managed to shoot down most of the incoming missiles, but Kaufield watched at least three of them score direct impacts against the warship’s hull. He studied the radiology telemetry pouring across a screen next to the laptop and smiled with satisfaction.

“Congratulations you bastards… you’ve just nuked yourselves!” he grinned, noting the look of astonishment on Adam’s face. His attention turned back to his screen and the Pathfinder’s close proximity to the Brotherhood’s behemoth. “Nori, we’ve got our ass toward them just like you asked – please fire away!”

“Acknowledged, Captain. Missiles firing!”

From the bottom of the Pathfinder came a huge rumble. The Command Dome shuddered briefly as Kaufield watched a series of armor-piercing missiles rocket out the rear of the hangar bay… the image instantly fed to their monitor directly from one of the landing skid cameras. Each missile quickly closed the distance to the enemy target and struck it virtually dead center in the heavily damaged engineering section. All four pierced the hull and vanished deep inside. The overhead monitors recorded the whole thing – another series of violent explosions erupted from deep within, bathing the sinister dark vessel in a hellish, flaming glow. Kaufield was still watching the overhead monitors carefully and surveying the damage when the warship unexpectedly transited away.

Mary turned and stared at him. “The Brotherhood vessel has… retreated… sir,” she reported with amazement.

“Good for them,” said Kaufield triumphantly. “Bad for the pilots they left behind.” He took a deep breath and sighed with relief. “Based on our two encounters with them, my analysis is that they rely too heavily on surprise, over-confidence, and superior firepower. They obviously haven’t worked for a government in a while, where we all learn early on to do more with less!” He glanced at Adam, who also was looking a little stunned. “Am I right, Hardware Specialist and part-time pilot Adam Roh?”

“Right, sir,” said Adam, deciding not to play a Devil’s Advocate for once.

“Thomas, this is Kaufield. There’s still an angry bunch of fighters meandering around out there. Would you please return us to our hiding place? And please keep the CAS Drive active, just in case they find us before we determine our next course of action.”

“Aye aye, Captain.”

“That,” declared the Captain proudly, “is what I call Contingency Plan Delta.”

*     * * *     *

After all the proverbial dust had settled, the Captain took a brief tour of his ship. He started by walking through each passenger deck at least once, surveying the throngs of officers and families that had hastily been assigned quarters. Most of the occupied rooms still looked primarily vacant since no one had been able to bring much more than they could carry with them. After the earlier general quarters alarm it was good to see people moving casually about the ship again. Everyone still looked a bit tense, but swiftly circulating reports of the Pathfinder’s recent success against the Brotherhood had temporarily reassured everyone that – at least for now – the loved ones they brought with them were safe and cared for.

As he walked the lowest deck, a Mom passed by him holding the hands of her two children. The kids were smiling happily, obviously on their way to one of the classrooms or recreational areas nearby. He also noticed an off duty Marine salute him proudly as he walked by and made a mental note to write that one down. Obviously word had already gotten around as to just how well they had done in battle, because he was used to having to do something rather extraordinary in order to get the really rough and tough boys to salute a Navy counterpart.

Kaufield paused at the rear of the ship and nodded to the Marines guarding the hatches to the lower wings. He thought about checking up on the Lab technicians but had heard earlier that Thomas and Glen were not present – they were already back in the hangar bay busily working on the fighters. So he took the lift up to the top deck and headed for the Livestock wing.

A very curious bunny rabbit stood up on its hind legs and watched him enter one of the animal habitats. He could hear birds chirping in the distance, and several fluttered by overhead as he walked further inside. There was a very nice dirt-covered walking path in front of him, and he remembered a comment Lt. Hastings had made earlier about riding horses in here. Leave it to Mary to find a way to keep the great outdoors in her life – even millions of kilometers from home.

Several days earlier, Joseph had told him to be sure and “Look up!” if he made it onto one of the farming or ranch areas. He had laughed at the time, knowing why his son was so impressed by the idea and couldn’t resist glancing upward now. A warm smile crossed his features as he noted that he was standing directly under – over? – one of the wildlife habitats on the other side. He could see some of the wilder beasts that composed their small zoo idly walking around or reclining lazily in shaded areas beneath the simulated daylight. Obviously he had chosen to walk on the side with four seasons, since those beasts would be unable to withstand colder weather.

Fenced off areas appeared on the left and the right as he strolled leisurely by, some containing a herd of horses, others keeping various breeds of cattle organized. There weren’t as many cattle on board as had been promised, so it was now up to their on-board veterinarians to make certain that all of the animals had plenty of babies. He noticed a gopher digging a large hole at the edge of one of the fence posts and laughed to himself at the memory of a recent report that had crossed his desk. Someone in Thomas’ software section had complained angrily about some of the smaller rodents getting into the passenger areas of the ship. “The Lab wing isn’t the only place on board the Pathfinder where sensitive equipment is stored and maintained…” the report had read.

There were other people visiting the wing, also walking along the dirt roads running through the area. Some waved at him, others passed by not knowing quite what to say. Dennis carefully surveyed the suspended ceiling again, admiring the quality of work that had gone into creating its two-sided lighting and environmental systems. The windows had no glass in them now but come winter they would be sealed off and coated with frost. The cold temperatures from this side would help keep the temperature on the other side milder and properly simulating the effects of a winter season in a warmer climate.

It was all so carefully thought out, well-designed, and organized. Dennis had invested nine years of his life keeping the Pathfinder project on schedule – Joseph had been only five when they had first arrived at Khyber Base. The boy had been too young to remember his mother Elizabeth… but Dennis remembered her vividly. He had been completely content to serve in the military and play part-time family man until she had passed away… taken before her time by an unpredictable brain tumor. Angry about that for quite a while but eventually converting the anger into both purpose and focus, he had worked harder than ever to stand out as one of the best officers serving in the Fleet. The day they offered him command of the Pathfinder had been one of the happiest days of his life, second only to the day he had wed his beautiful Elizabeth.

Their current crew complement was completely and absolutely ready to begin their exploratory mission. All he had to do was give the command and they’d be off, galaxy-hopping across the known and unknown universe that lay beyond them. It was very tempting and a choice that had now become a lot easier to make. He had been trained in tactical strategy and knew that it wouldn’t take the Brotherhood long to devise a defense against the CAS technique they had used so effectively. There were basically two options left: begin their exploratory mission and expand its objectives to include the survival of the human race, or sit around and wait for the Brotherhood to find or trick them into another confrontation. Having to fight them again with such a vulnerable starship and a full load of civilians was not something he was looking forward to. The images of the Brotherhood warship still astonished him. The firepower that just one of those mother ships could utilize against Earth vessels and the planet’s surface was overwhelming, to say the least.

Where had this Brotherhood so completely hidden a fleet of that size?

A horse neighed off to his left. He casually wandered over to the fence and the large brown and white-haired animal leaned its head toward him and snorted. Dennis smiled as he rubbed the animal’s long snout and looked in its warm, friendly eyes. The horse’s tail randomly flapped back and forth, slapping at flies. Kaufield noted he had just passed a goat pen and up ahead were several small herds of sheep. Such an idyllic setting, he thought carefully to himself – and so vulnerable to attack. If the Brotherhood hit them with any significant ordnance of any kind – a strafing run or a stray missile – the Pathfinder might have survived but its ability to function as a colony ship would be completely compromised. It was very unlikely that they would be allowed to simply drop into orbit back at Earth and put in for repairs.

What about all those people who still could be alive?

The thought had entered his mind repeatedly since the morning after that first day, and he still felt just as completely helpless as he had then. The fact that there were no transmissions other than the fake bait they had received only helped him conclude that other Captains had made the same decision that he was leaning toward – point yourself toward open space and transit to at least temporary safety. The attack had been so thorough that none of the communications grids normally active – from any of the space-faring nations - was up and running. His thoughts drifted to the bloody ambush they had just escaped from each time the thought of leaving entered his mind. If we try to begin a relief effort back on Earth with the Brotherhood still in control, that’s what it’s going to continue to be… a bloody fistfight the entire way, with our own chance for survival miniscule at best.

All said, it was probably easier for him to permanently leave behind family and friends than it was for a lot of the people currently stationed on board. When he had first signed on to the project he knew full well that he and Joseph might quite possibly leap toward distant stars someday and not see their loved ones for quite some time. If the kid was old enough, he had even been prepared to offer Joseph the option to stay behind. Thus far their distance tests had yielded no limitations but he had no doubt that if they traveled far enough the “one transit and you’re home” option would soon be lost. The Pathfinder was a “next-generation” colony ship, after all, constructed specifically for extremely long-term exploration.

It’s just nice if you have the opportunity to say goodbye first, whether it be forever or just for a while, he thought idly.

The idea of getting a much better picture of what surrounded their galaxy appealed to him for other reasons as well – not the least of which was the possibility of finding resources to help them come back and fight. It was a long shot, to be sure, but with their new CAS Drive they now had the ability to cover a significant amount of territory in a hurry. The longer they remained near their home system, the more likely it would be that the Brotherhood would find them again. Having carefully reviewed everything that his officers had said in their meetings over the past five days, he headed hastily for the exit as he reached his final decision. Right now the people on board needed to feel safe, they needed something to believe in, and they needed something to occupy their time. He stopped at a Comm-panel on the wall near the exit and opened its link.

“Thomas, this is Kaufield – please respond.”

“Aye, Captain. What can I do for you?”

“We’re not safe here with the Brotherhood obviously still running things. If we stay we will be found. I’d appreciate it if you would take a break from working on the fighters and recheck your figures in the Lab wing. If everything checks out…” he paused, knowing there was only one choice, “…IF everything checks out, please use the CAS Drive to move the Pathfinder to Bravo Point.” And that will most definitely eliminate the immediate threat, his conscience reassured him. “And Thomas?”

“Yes sir?”

“Set the range for a few kilometers farther than the shuttle flight. Let’s set another record!”

“Aye Captain!”

Fifteen minutes later – his Captain’s tour completed after a brief stop at one of the cafeterias – Dennis was sitting quietly in his quarters when the alarm klaxon sounded and a brief warning was issued for everyone aboard to prepare for transit. Joseph was curled up in one of the beds sleeping and he took a deep breath, turning over on his side as the caution sounded. The kid was definitely a sound sleeper – he didn’t awaken. Just as well, Dennis thought to himself. Tomorrow I’m really going to be able to show you yet another impressive view, my enthusiastic young son.

He took a sip of hot coffee and picked up a plate from the nightstand next to his easy chair. The plate held a fluffy slice of white cake and was topped with whipped cream and fresh strawberries. He took a bite of the cake and savored its taste as he listened to the ship’s rumbling thrusters shut down. There would be additional conflicts, debates and perhaps even a few complaints, but the final say was his. And he was certain it was the correct one. One of the obligations a ship’s Captain faced was to make the tough decisions when they arose and live with them. The knowledge that the consciences of others would be eased by his bearing this burden was all he needed to keep his own self-esteem under control.

Dennis took a deep breath and another sip of coffee from his mug, right before the Pathfinder made history by transporting itself farther than any other manned vessel.

8: VII: Aftermath

THE PATHFINDER PROJECT

Chapter VII: Aftermath

The spy in their midst was uncertain as to his next move. He stood silently waiting, extremely agitated, next to the window in the quarters assigned to him. Visible in the distance were the now famous Galaxy clusters, and buried deep somewhere in the star-filled spiral arm of one of them was his suddenly distant home. The shock of instant separation from the rest of his kind – sparked by the CAS transit that had landed them here – still echoed vividly in his memory. He was scared and frightened, cut off from the rest… and he was also angry.

Open forum.

The Captain had spoken of it on the all-call several days earlier when he had granted everyone public access to the computer transcripts of the senior staff meetings. Anyone could download the text of their conversations from a simple workstation available in all quarters. Report all suspicious behavior to a security officer immediately, one of the reports cautioned. There may be Brotherhood agents hiding among us. Not only that, but someone was now posting news updates… including a video feed of the warship that had taken heavy damage in the Pathfinder’s most recent encounter with fellow members of his kind.

How many of the Brotherhood were dead? Would he ever see any of the others again?

He paced nervously back and forth, trying to keep his suddenly exploding emotions under control. Keeping cool had been such an easy task before, when the sophisticated, encrypted transceiver unit that he carried everywhere had occasionally lit up, letting him know that others from the Brotherhood were passing nearby on Earth ships. But the Pathfinder project was different… the Brotherhood had spent years infiltrating government agencies and carefully making meticulous behind-the-scenes changes before they were finally able to arrange for assignment of an undercover operative to Khyber Base. Even after all of the preparation, their first attempt had failed. The operative serving as an American officer had been dismissed from the Project after only a limited tour. Patient as always, the Triumvirate decided to try their luck with him… a blue-collar worker.

After arrival he had done his job despite the lack of contact with anyone except for lower level base personnel. Periodically supply ships had stopped by to provide supplies, deliver equipment, and assign or re-assign personnel, but face-to-face interaction with his own kind had faded to a mere memory and activation of the transceiver became more and more of a rare treat. Covert surveillance of an entire civilization was much more difficult when there were so few clone lines at their disposal. Having a twin brother or sister was an easy explanation for some situations, but the Brotherhood had chosen to be extremely careful in order to avoid giving away their newfound advantage too soon. Many of the clones destined to work outside the Brotherhood often received early genetic manipulation treatments to vary eye, hair, and skin color as well as gender and other physical attributes. Still, with only three lines to work with, matters had proven very difficult.

Additional lines were supposed to have been created much more quickly. What had gone wrong?

The orientation he received prior to assignment on the moon had helped him cope with his conflicting emotions, particularly when occasional updates were received from another passing messenger. However those transmissions had become so few and far between at Khyber Base – the project was almost totally classified by the American military and he had been unable to work his way into a high-level position of trust. He had known for some time that the rest of them were losing patience with him – angered by his repeated failures to gather any useful intelligence regarding the new CAS system. As things turned out, he unintentionally provided misinformation. During the last transmission he had delivered to another spy, his report had indicated that: (1) the CAS Drive was still at least a year away from trial testing, and (2) the Pathfinder was virtually marooned at Khyber Base without it.

Upon their escape, his realization that the ship was also equipped with a complete, traditional PTP system had caught him completely by surprise. Terrorized at first, he had almost been happy that they were hidden and undetectable for a time, because he knew that punishment surely awaited him upon a successful return to Earth. He had prepared himself for that possibility – knowing that the good of the Brotherhood would override any personal needs he might have.

But this situation was different and everything had completely changed in the blink of an eye.

A stab of fear ran through him, and he glared in anger at the silent transceiver still lying on the bed. The device had landed there after being angrily thrown there. He had abruptly noticed the Pathfinder’s latest CAS movement by looking out a window, and suddenly realized the device might never again activate. Something was different now… something terrifying that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Perhaps it was the realization that a Brotherhood presence on this vessel was now limited completely to him. The truth of the matter was impossible to deny – the starship had leaped out here so far away from the familiar stars of home and into almost total darkness. A part of himself that he had never suspected was there had now fallen dark and silent, too. The longer he felt the loss the more upset he was becoming – he desperately struggled to maintain his composure, grateful to be currently off-shift and alone in his newly assigned cabin.

What was he supposed to do next?

Everywhere he had traveled while touring the ship he had passed off duty marines or – even worse – armed guards stationed near all of the critical areas. There had been no update from his people prior to the attack as to what his next course of action should be. His fellow Brotherhood members must have erroneously assumed that they would successfully capture Khyber Base and re-integrate their undercover agent back into the fold. Now he felt snared like an animal – if he attempted sabotage or even a simple escape he would be caught and killed.

Escape?

He became extremely furious at the simple thought, sitting down in the center of the room and pressing his head against raised knees.

Escape to WHERE exactly?

Even if he managed to penetrate the hangar bay’s security and somehow steal a ship, how was he supposed to get home without help from the other members of this crew?

Further… if he did manage to escape, presumably the Pathfinder would soon leap to a new destination somewhere just as far distant. That meant the next time the starship made use of its newfound super-charged PTP capability the spy would be stuck here forever – alone. He let out a sob of despair and tears rolled down his cheeks as he realized that he was trapped… trapped aboard the American ship. Emotions he had always been able to suppress abruptly began welling up from deep within him, and he knew that if he didn’t learn to control them quickly and behave normally in public his true identity would inevitably be discovered and capture would soon follow. Feeling grief-stricken and helpless, he sat quietly sobbing in the center of the room for quite some time.

*     * * *     *

“What a freaking piece of junk!” Thomas Roh snarled, turning and hurling a piece of electronic equipment against the nearest wall. “Work damn you!” He was standing on the footrest of an F-175 fighter, next to its cockpit. His latest attempt to reactivate its systems had ended in failure. He ran a hand through his thick hair and paused for a minute, thinking carefully to himself.

“We’ve found a working, older version of the software,” pointed out Angie – an attractive dark-haired female standing across from him and working on the same ship. “It’s just a matter of time and patience now. We review each enhanced subroutine from the upgrades and won’t add it into our starter program until we’re certain we’ve filtered out all the viruses and backdoors.”

“Some of the legitimate code is part of the virus,” snapped Thomas, still angry. “We may end up having to eyeball every line of code. Do you know how many of those there are?”

“I know that this would be a lot more difficult if we hadn’t found an unaltered, original version of the software,” Angie commented, turning her attention back to her work. She let him vent his anger and shook her head briskly at Glen as he walked over from a second F-175 that was sitting on the hangar deck behind her. They had set up three teams to “compete” with each other, figuring that would give them the best results. Each would come up with a new software program with as much of the Brotherhood infiltration coding removed as possible. Then they were planning to compare and contrast those three programs, using them to draft a final version that would hopefully be completely virus free.

“Thomas, how long has it been since you slept?” asked Glen carefully, studying the young man’s face. “Every time I’ve started a new shift, you’ve either been in the Lab or here in the hangar bay working on one thing or another.”

“Do you know how much code I have left to sift through?” the young scientist asked, anger filling his voice.

“I’ve got a pretty good idea, yes,” Glen replied. He could see the fatigue in Thomas’ eyes along with the pressure the young man was putting on himself to get things done. “How long has it been since you slept?”

“Shouldn’t you get back to working on your stuff?” asked Thomas, failing to conceal the hostility in his tone.

“Fine, you can tell it to the Captain,” Glen responded. He powered off his laptop, closed its lid, and set it next to the rest of the equipment between the two fighters. Then he turned toward the exit and began walking toward a Comm-link. Thomas watched in anger at first, then ran after the older man and grabbed his arm.

“Wait!” he pleaded desperately. “Please don’t go to the Captain.” He took a deep breath and looked his co-worker and friend directly in the eyes. “I’ve worked hard to have a chance at eventually taking over command of the Lab from you – it’s just that we’ve had to solve so many of these frustrating puzzles in so short a time. It’s getting to me a bit, that’s all.”

“How long has it been since you slept, Thomas?”

“I… I haven’t been able to sleep since the day of the attack,” he finally confessed. His expression changed to one of shame. “I went off-shift a couple of times the first few days but wasn’t able to drift off. So I just kept returning to the Lab or here and continued working. It’s kind of just become old hat. I have been taking meal breaks.”

“You haven’t slept in six days and you never told anyone?” Glen asked carefully, beginning to feel a little angry himself. “We’ve got most of the tough stuff licked, Thomas – it’s okay to take a longer break if you need to. For God’s sake, do you know what you can do to yourself if you ignore your body’s basic needs?”

“The Captain wants…”

“The Captain wants the fighters back up and running as soon as possible!” Glen interrupted. “And as soon as possible doesn’t mean that you have to stay down here every minute of the day ruining your health.” He pointed firmly at the nearest lift. “You’re off-shift as of this minute for at least two days. Report to Dr. Simmons and have her give you something to help you sleep.” He pointed again for emphasis.

“But we’ve got all this code to go through. What if…?”

“Your team is just that… a team,” Glen pointed out. “You’re actually hurting it if you’re working with all that fatigue.” He looked carefully into Thomas’ tired eyes. “We did great, kid! We got the CAS system on-line and functioning and we couldn’t have done it without you. Trust me; we’ve left the Brotherhood behind. They can’t possibly follow us through a long range CAS transit!” He shrugged. “So maybe it’ll take us a day or two longer than expected to get the fighters running – but we want them to actually work correctly when we tell the Captain they’re ready – right?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Go see Karen and get something to help you sleep. That’s as close as you’re going to get to an order from someone you work for.” He paused, letting the impact of what he was saying sink in. “Don’t feel bad about it, either. Did you know that there are lots of other people who have had the same difficulty?”

“No, I guess I didn’t.”

“Our home world is more than likely destroyed… we’ve lost family and friends… and everybody was wondering if we were next,” Glen said forcefully. “That’s why the Captain made the decision to move the ship away from the Sol system. Because the constant stress of dealing with everything was starting to affect even our best people. We all need some time to catch our breath and keep ourselves healthy because we all need each other now more than ever.”

“Okay, I’ll stop in and see the Doctor,” Thomas promised. He entered the nearest lift and Glen watched it slowly rise toward the passenger area. He started back toward the F-175 he had been working on, hesitated, then walked over to the Comm-link next to the lift. His fingers quickly tapped in the number for the Medical Ward.

“Dr. Simmons.”

“Karen, this is Glen,” he said, unable to hide the concern in his voice. “Thomas is on his way down to see you. He hasn’t slept since the attack and he really looks like he’s got a serious problem. I’m hoping you can make sure that the kid gets some rest.”

“We’ve had quite a few of those already, Glen,” she replied. “It’s common among workaholics, and unfortunately that’s the type of person generally requested for projects like the Pathfinder.” She paused, thinking carefully. “From what I know about Thomas he’s probably going to resist a long-term treatment plan. I think he’s been putting a lot of pressure on himself and slowly winding himself up long before Earth was attacked. People who work as hard as he does don’t want to let up. It often takes just as long a time to unwind that kind of an emotional spring as it does to coil it up.”

“I know, and the worst thing about the situation is that he thinks it’s his fault somehow,” Glen said softly. “He’s one of my best people and we wouldn’t be alive if he hadn’t made things happen in a hurry. We owe him a lot.”

“I’ll do my best for him. But you might want to consider planning a lighter duty schedule for him… perhaps indefinitely.”

“He’s not going to like that,” commented Glen. “I don’t think he’s going to like that at all, Doctor. You better be ready to stand firm with him.”

“I didn’t say he was going to like it,” replied the Doctor. Glen nodded and closed the Comm-link. He sighed and took a quick look around at all the electronics specialists dotting the crowded hangar bay. Normally only deckhands, pilots, and support ship mechanics hung around down here. A first glance now and some people might think they had moved half of the electronics from the Lab Wing into the bay. Trying to remember where he had left off in his seemingly endless search through the fighter navigation program, Glen headed back toward the F-175.

*     * * *     *

Dr. Juliana Markham tapped up-to-date coordinates into the keyboard on the workstation next to her. Above her, one of the huge computerized telescopes in the Observatory wing immediately received and began processing the new parameters. The telescope hummed slightly as its lens setting auto-adjusted and its angle shifted slightly. The Doctor and her staff had been steadily recording images of the distant Galaxy clusters and taking navigational readings for most of the day now. She wasn’t sure if their original mission still applied, but until she heard otherwise she planned to be ready if the Captain called looking for information.

She smoothed wrinkles out of her light blue blouse, noting that they ran a pretty informal office on this end of the ship. Most of her staff were walking around wearing blue jeans or cotton slacks… there wasn’t a suit or white coat around. Anyone who didn’t know them better would think the Observatory was run by civilians – instead, it was the focal point for some of the brightest minds on Earth. Julie was a tall, strikingly beautiful woman with graying hair. She was approximately 55 years old and in her mind she used the word “approximately” a lot where her age was concerned.

“The latest navigational reports the staff have put together are being routed to your terminal Doctor,” said Kari Hansen, her Administrative Assistant. The short, auburn-haired young woman smiled and added, “It’s quite a lengthy set of file names – we’ve identified a lot of possible destinations already!”

“I’ll bet,” replied Julie, pausing long enough to put on a pair of reading glasses. She called up the first report on her workstation and began reading briskly; taking careful note of all the new information provided with a curiosity that continually astonished everyone who worked with her. Adam Roh entered through one of the hatchways that led back into the ship and Julie idly noted Kari walking over to make certain the proper authorization badge dangled from the man’s shirt pocket. The pretty young woman was one of the most efficient and organized people that Julie had ever met. If they were going to be millions of light years from home for any length of time, then Kari was the person you wanted to have around keeping your office running.

Despite the fact that the Pathfinder project’s designers had planned for much of the ship’s time to be spent in the empty void and darkness of distant space, the observatory was still built to block out most of the star shine during the times that they were Galaxy-based. Almost all of the Observatory wing’s edges were composed of sturdy metallic “sliding door” panels that could be opened or closed to allow in or block out as much light as desired. Naturally the telescopes were computer-controlled and all fully adjustable also, able to change angles easily and lengthen or retract as needed.

“Good afternoon Dr. Markham,” Adam said pleasantly as he stepped up onto the platform she occupied near one of the telescopes. “How are things proceeding?”

“Oh, as you may have guessed this has been quite a treat so far,” Julie commented. “I’ve spent the last hour alone confirming some of the truly wonderful mysteries that our Earth-based equipment could only begin to help us speculate on. Variable stars, nebulae, globular clusters…” she threw up her hands in delight. “You name it and I can find you dozens of examples within the course of a few minutes. It’s literally too much to explore!”

“You’ll record everything, and then the Captain decides to transit the ship again…” grinned Adam.

“Exactly, and the entire cycle of discovery begins all over again – from a brand new reference point!” Julie chuckled. “I tell you Adam we’re only using half of our potential here,” she commented somewhat disappointedly. “If we could have safely transited back to Earth at this point and allowed them to download our data, it would have sped up our learning process considerably.” She shook her head in disgust. “That awful attack has taken away our loved ones, and now it’s limiting our ability to streamline processing all of this new data that we’re receiving.”

“The Brotherhood of the Dragon is not real popular over in the Lab wing, either,” noted Adam. “Glen and Thomas are still trying to clean up the latest version of the fighter software so we can restore power to the two long-range shuttles and our fighters.” He shrugged. “But we have gotten a lot accomplished in a short amount of time. Thomas sent me a report on the Canary probes and they performed flawlessly in his CAS testing series. We wouldn’t have had to return to Earth in order to file a report – instead we could’ve just opened a PTP window and sent one of the Canaries.”

“Well that’s an interesting thought,” Julie mused, slipping a pencil behind her right ear. “In other words we can use the Canary probes to check up on Earth from time to time and see if any of our people survived?”

“When the time is right, the Captain will probably do just that,” decided Adam cautiously. “But in the interim, everything depends on where we end up transiting to next. Theoretically it’s always a one-way trip back, but when you consider how far we could end up going…”

“Realistically one-shot trips beyond a reasonable point are not something we can expect to rely on long-term.” Julie said, completing his sentence for him. “The universe is a creation constantly in motion,” she observed, sounding somewhat disappointed. “And the farther we journey away from home, the more even the slightest change in the alignment of astronomical objects will affect our navigation.”

“That’s correct, Doctor. I have been reading your reports!” He handed her a data disk loaded with encrypted computer files. “This is from Thomas and Glen – it’s their latest assessment of the Pathfinder’s CAS capability. I think you’ll find it an interesting read. The Captain wants to meet tomorrow promptly at 0700 to discuss our next move, and he instructed me to begin including you in our meetings.”

“Lovely,” said Julie with a bit of sarcasm. “He must think we don’t have enough to do down here already. Right, Kari?”

“That’s right, Dr. Markham,” Kari replied heartily. “We spend most of our time here in the Observatory playing card games.”

“I’ll make sure the Captain hears that you need something to do,” Adam joked as he turned and headed back toward the exit hatches. He glanced around the huge chamber. Like the Laboratory wing on the other side of the ship, it was almost completely filled with computers and observation equipment. “Perhaps he’ll have the Lab build you a few more telescopes.”

“Make sure he sends lunch now and then,” Kari called after him.

“And a pot of hot coffee!” added Julie.

*     * * *     *

Mary was busily sautéing onions in the kitchen section of her quarters when the door chimed. “Come in!” she called cheerfully and glanced up to watch Glen as he entered the small apartment with a grocery bag tucked under one arm.

“Oh, I love the smell of onions!” he declared, walking over toward her countertop area and unpacking the sack full of food. She handed him a clean knife and he hastily began chopping vegetables, tossing a handful now and then into the hot pan she continued to stir. “It’s really quite something to see this ship in operation,” he said, impressed. “Half of every galley is set up as a restaurant for the folks who want to eat out – the other half is pretty much your average grocery store with all kinds of fresh stuff you can bring back to your quarters.”

“Stir fry was a good idea,” she decided. “We’re supposed to stick to a diet of mostly vegetables for the time being, anyway.”

“And poultry,” Glen pointed out, tossing a handful of neatly sliced chicken into the pan. He continued chopping up additional stalks of broccoli, bok choy, carrots, porta-bella mushrooms and cauliflower.

“Weren’t you supposed to add the meat first?” Mary asked, wondering just what recipe he was following. “Is this one of your famous bachelor concoctions, by any chance?”

“It’s stir fry, you don’t need a recipe. Just throw everything together in a hot pan and let the steam do the work,” he insisted, dumping a handful of freshly sliced mushrooms into the pan. In a small mixing cup he began blending soy and oyster sauce and then mixed in a few tablespoons of a spicy BBQ blend someone had suggested they try along with a final dash of sesame oil. He dumped a half cup of water into the pan and poured the sauce over the top. Steam erupted from within the food mixture and Glen smiled in triumph.

She couldn’t help kissing him as he reached over her shoulder to put the lid on the pan and he courteously returned the favor. She ran her hands along his muscular chest and hugged him mightily. They stood that way for several minutes, genuinely enjoying each other’s company before she finally leaned up and kissed him again. “You’re going to go hungry tonight if you keep that up,” he pointed out, taking a quick look at his watch. He lifted the lid and stirred the mixture thoroughly, then placed the cover back on the pan so that the steam could do its work.

“I hope we don’t go back home to Earth,” Mary said suddenly, her expression growing distant. “It may be lonely out here when we’re so far away but it’s the first time in almost a week that I feel safe.”

“I know,” Glen replied, kissing her chastely on the cheek. “Don’t think that the Captain hasn’t noticed how many things have returned to normal since we left. He’s been interviewing the civilian portion of our crew for most of the day, since they have as much at stake now as we do.”

“The agenda for tomorrow’s meeting is pretty vague,” she pointed out.

“That’s intentional. The original charter written for this ship calls for the formation of our own limited government. Although that may be delayed for now, I have a feeling that everybody is still going to get a chance to speak.” He handed her a couple of plates and some silverware, then took the pan of stir fry off the stove. They moved over to the table and he carefully began spooning a large serving onto each plate. Abruptly, he snapped his fingers. “You forgot the rice,” he said, raising an eyebrow at her.

“No I didn’t,” she replied matter-of-factly. “I’m watching my weight this month and that’s just a bunch of extra carbohydrates I don’t need right now.”

“You watching your weight is ridiculous,” he said playfully, taking a bite of food. “Why don’t you leave that to me?” She frowned at him and he gave her a perplexed look. “What?” he said defensively, “Honestly, I’ve never seen anyone walk for exercise as much as you do. If we had stayed at Khyber Base any longer you would have worn a hole in the exercise yard.”

“I think the formation of a government will be a very interesting challenge,” said Mary, deciding to ignore his semi-humorous jabs. “Especially since we have so many civilians on board now – the eventual number assigned when we started our mission was supposed to be considerably lower.”

“There are a lot of things that turned out differently than we expected,” Glen commented thoughtfully. “That doesn’t mean we can’t make some adjustments and move forward. There’s a lot to explore out here – our new mission could be defined in terms of a few short months or expanded to a long-term journey that takes years.”

She looked him squarely in the eyes. “I don’t want to go back to Earth,” she repeated firmly, casually stirring the vegetables on her plate with her fork. “I know it’s selfish, and I know survivors back on Earth are no doubt suffering and at the mercy of that Brotherhood. But I don’t want to go back.”

*     * * *     *

Thomas woke up still feeling very drowsy after slumbering through most of the morning and afternoon. It was almost 5:00 p.m. in the evening when he finally sat up and yawned. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed he had been assigned in the Medical Ward and stood up. For the most part he felt fine, with the exception of a sharp, burning pain in his left breast.

“What’s the deal, Doc?” he asked cautiously, noting that Dr. Simmons had a serious look of concern on her face. “How come my chest hurts so much?”

The Doctor frowned at him. “Because, young Mr. Roh, the medication I gave you helped you to sleep but it also released the tension you’ve had locked inside of you… quite probably for years now. That’s good old fashioned anxiety you’re feeling, and from what I can tell you’ve got plenty of it packed away.”

“So I suppose you’re going to send me back to my quarters to get more sleep,” he joked.

“That’s right,” Dr. Simmons said sternly. “You’re off duty until further notice.”

“What?” Thomas asked with growing concern. “You can’t do that!” In response to his excited comment she turned and looked at him. The expression on her face was accompanied by a sharp new pain in his chest. “Okay, I guess you can but I seriously hope you won’t,” he decided.

“Thomas, do you have any idea how serious this is?” she asked.

“It’s just fatigue, Doctor, honest. We’ve been doing a lot of extra work lately.”

“I’m going to give you a shot in a minute or two. After that I want you to go straight back to your quarters, get something to eat, and then sleep straight through until tomorrow morning.” She paused, filling a syringe with clear liquid. “When you wake up tomorrow I want you to come straight back here – I’ve set up a 10:30 a.m. appointment for you with Dr. Hagen.”

“Keith Hagen… the ship’s psychiatrist? Really Doctor, I think you’re over-reacting here just a little bit. I’m not going crazy!”

“Neither are the other people currently being treated for stress-related symptoms,” stated Karen firmly. “But they need our help, just like you do.”

“I have to talk to Glen and the Captain first, Doctor. They’re expecting me…”

“They’re expecting you to do whatever I tell you for the time being,” said Dr. Simmons. “I’ve already cleared this with both of them. You’re on emergency sick leave until further notice.”

“What do I need another shot for?” Thomas asked. “I’m still drowsy from those pills you gave me. What was that… about nine or ten hours ago?”

“You’re still drowsy because the medication I gave you takes a lot longer to clear out of your system than some of our modern stuff,” she said, swabbing his arm with an alcohol-soaked cotton ball and then using the hypodermic needle to administer an injection. “My first priority was to get you some uninterrupted sleep, and the second is to begin uncoiling that spring you’ve got so tightly wound in your chest...” She held up the empty syringe for emphasis. “…And that’s going to take some time, young man.”

“Do you know how far behind I’m going to fall in my duties if I’m gone for more than a day or so?” he asked her. “Seriously, there’s a lot to be done, Doctor, and I’m a crucial part…”

“Your health is more important to me than your career,” Dr. Simmons interrupted. “And that’s what bothers me most at this point. It should be more important to you, too.” Thomas suddenly felt a wave of dizziness shake him, and he touched the side of the bed with one hand to steady himself. “If I were you I’d go and get something to eat while you still can,” suggested Karen. “In about a half hour you had better be in bed. If you don’t call me and let me know when you’re tucked away in your quarters, I’ll notify two of my assistants to bring you back here.”

She could tell that he didn’t like the situation one bit, but the young twenty-eight year old scientist nodded in agreement and quickly exited back into the main area of the ship. Thomas was the seventh person so far that she had treated after diagnosing severe stress, burnout, and post-traumatic stress disorder. And there were so many others, fortunately with lesser symptoms that had been caught early enough. The Doctor watched the door close behind the young man and wondered how many more people with similar problems she would be meeting before their situation stabilized. They were isolated, alone, and unable to call for help. Those circumstances had steeled her and made her even more determined to make certain that their best people stayed healthy and able to cope with the dire life-and-death conditions that had unexpectedly been thrown at them.

9: VIII: Affairs of State

THE PATHFINDER PROJECT

Chapter VIII: Affairs of State

Dennis and Joseph had gotten up very early to take a tour of the zoo area in the Livestock wing. After his recent visit with Adam, the Captain’s son had become infatuated with the unique mix of nature and technology that kept the farming and zoological wings functioning and was constantly asking to go back and study the area more thoroughly. He was particularly interested in the bigger cats – Father and son spent most of their morning together watching the lions and tigers tear into their breakfast, then lick their paws and settle down for a nap. Joseph was also completely captivated by a large black jaguar in one of the cages – it had ignored its breakfast and instead spent its time pacing rapidly back and forth. It looked angry – unhappy with its captivity – and the powerful muscles along its legs and back flexed constantly with its movement.

“I see you’ve met Midnight, our one and only jaguar,” said a tall, dark-haired man dressed in coveralls. He walked slowly across a dirt path that separated him from the pair. “We call her Middy for short,” he grinned enthusiastically, shaking hands with Dennis. “She’s quite a creature and we’re very proud to have her here.”

“She doesn’t like being cooped up in there at all,” commented Joseph softly. He continued to stand next to the wooden handrail that separated him from the cage by about two meters.

“Nope,” replied the friendly man, frowning slightly. “She was born to roam the wild areas of home. That’s one of the tough parts of my job now. Midnight and some of our other animals were supposed to have been transferred off of the Pathfinder before we put to space. Since that’s not going to happen, we’re looking at freeing up some more room for our big cats down the way a bit. We just have to be a little careful because their scent spooks the other animals.” He paused for a moment, letting Joseph observe closely. “It’s a good thing you’re here so early, because most of these animals sleep a lot through the heat of the day.”

“Joseph,” said Dennis proudly, “I’d like to introduce you to Jeffrey Mathison, our Chief of Livestock & Agricultural Ship Operations. He’s our project leader for both the Livestock and Garden wings… so he’s normally a very busy man.”

“That’s right,” Jeff replied. “Most of the Pathfinder’s crew is non-military, but we all still have at least one fancy title.” He laughed heartily. “Why, just yesterday I believe I passed the ‘Chief Executive In Charge Of Everything’ on one of the walkways.”

“Don’t joke about that,” Dennis noted cautiously. “That’s the guy everybody’s going to expect me to be from now on!” He shook his head negatively. “Captain, I have a problem I need fixed…” he joked, chuckling.

“I suppose that’s one of the reasons you’re down here so early,” Jeff guessed.

“You could say that,” Kaufield replied. “We’re going to have a meeting at 0700 and one of the items on the agenda is the formation of a ship’s government. I don’t plan on setting it up the way our government usually functions. Instead, I’m going to assign at least one person from each major section and then have 3-4 spots that will be filled by civilian appointees – particularly those that work in key positions in the passenger area.”

“Do you want me to attend this one?” asked Jeff curiously.

“I don’t know that you need to yet,” decided Kaufield. “The transcript of the meeting will be available – as usual – but I wanted to give you a heads up that you may be asked to attend future meetings.” He looked at all of the caged creatures surrounding them. “Since you’re in charge of both upper wings I wanted to let you know that you’re almost certainly going to be voted onto our new Council.”

“Good to know,” Mathison replied firmly. He winked at Joseph. “I’ll be sure to free up some time on my schedule.”

“I hope we won’t have to continue working people so hard,” Dennis commented sincerely. “The agenda for this meeting is ridiculously simple – I don’t intend for that to happen with future status meetings.” He put his hand on Joseph’s shoulder and squeezed lightly. “We’ll issue a full preview in advance from now on. If you’re really busy and can’t get away, just send someone else from your area to represent your point of view.”

“Don’t worry, Captain. We’ve had years to test these systems and as long as we keep them properly maintained everything will function as promised in our last report.” He scratched his head. “What concerns me right now is our botanist team. I’ve never seen so many people with green thumbs. If they keep up like they have been we aren’t going to have room for the animals!”

Joseph laughed at the big man’s humor and his Dad chuckled too. They heard someone behind them holler “Hello!” and – since they were caught off guard slightly – Dennis turned in time to see Corporal Benjamin Henderson walking toward him. The marine’s arm was still in a sling, and a young girl with a brightly colored cotton dress was happily skipping along in front of him waving a handful of flowers she had picked.

“Well if it isn’t my favorite injured Corporal,” Kaufield joked as Ben joined them. Henderson and the little girl paused to take a good look around at all of the large animals in the cages on both sides of the walking path. It was really quite an impressive view, especially with the exotic series of jungle trees and brush that surrounded each cage.

“This is my daughter Lucy,” Ben said, introducing her quickly to all the others. “She was on the moon with her grandparents for a visit with me when the attack occurred, so it looks like I’m one of the few left with family to look after.”

“Hello Lucy,” Jeff said, bending down to shake her petite hand. “Do you like the zoo we’ve got set up here?”

“Yes, but I want to see the ponies,” she said firmly, looking up at the Corporal. “Daddy promised me I could see ponies and horses.” Her little mind whirled with possibilities. “And the giraffe-eds.”

“That’s our next stop, sweetie.” Ben said playfully, winking at Dennis and Joseph.

“You should have turned left instead of right then,” pointed out Jeff. A thought occurred to him and he held up an index finger. “Everyone, please wait right here,” he said enthusiastically, jogging across the walking path and between two of the cages. They could hear him rummaging around in what sounded like cardboard boxes for several minutes. When he reappeared, Jeff was holding two fluffy stuffed animals.

“Wow, those are really nice,” Ben said, sounding very impressed. He watched Lucy smile as Mathison handed her a brightly striped tiger. He gave a second stuffed animal – this one a hairy, maned lion – to Joseph.

“Now you have your own big cat,” he told Joseph. Kaufield looked a bit surprised at the gifts but Jeff waved him off. “We have a bunch of souvenir items stored back there that are going to be on display near the entrance eventually,” he said proudly. “But I don’t see why we can’t begin handing them out right away.”

“Thank you!” Lucy said happily, hugging her stuffed tiger tightly. Joseph also echoed his thanks. They stood visiting for a few minutes longer when suddenly Lucy looked up at her Dad. “Can we go see the ponies now, Daddy?” she asked, doing her best to sound cute.

“All right, young lady, let’s go see some ponies,” the Corporal decided. He waved goodbye with his good hand, then he and Lucy began walking back toward the exit hatch.

“I have to say goodbye, too,” Kaufield said. “I’ve got that meeting at 0700.”

“Why don’t you let Joseph stay with me for a while,” Mathison offered. “I’ll give him a quick tour of the rest of the zoo and have him back in his quarters in time for school.”

“If it’s no trouble,” Dennis said cautiously. “I know everyone’s really busy these days.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jeff reassured him. “We’ve got plenty of staff on board to complete our work. Now that we’re away from the base, things have actually settled down quite a bit.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed that,” commented the Captain. He affectionately rubbed Joseph on the head. “Stay away from the cages and do what Jeff tells you, kiddo.”

“I know, I know,” said Joseph excitedly. “I’ll tell you all about it tonight at dinner!”

Kaufield watched the two of them walk further down the path for a few minutes, thinking about the morning ahead of him. It was only twenty minutes until the staff meeting started, so he decided the first thing he was going to do before heading up to the conference lounge was to chase down a really hot cup of coffee.

*     * * *     *

Mary, Glen, Adam, and Julie were the first to arrive in Observation Dome One. A half-empty box of donuts sat on the large table located in the center of the room. There was also a large coffee pot, and everyone except Glen had a hot steaming cup full.

Adam was casually doodling on a yellow legal pad, half-listening to the conversation that the others were having. Dr. Simmons had personally stopped by his quarters the prior evening to let him know that his brother was having some stress-related difficulty. It didn’t surprise Adam – he really cared for his younger brother and had suspected for some time that the younger Roh was not completely dealing properly with his high-octane career. Mostly he was worried, since Karen had suggested he refrain from visiting Thomas until lunch time. She wanted him to have every opportunity to catch up on the sleep that he had lost over the past week.

“I noticed that the Pathfinder executed another PTP transit again during the night,” Mary observed, smiling. She turned her gaze toward Dr. Markham. “Would that be why you’re here, Julie?”

“Hey, I came to represent my section,” she said defensively, holding up both hands before returning the smile. “But I did request that we make another transit, yes,” she finally admitted, nervously tapping a pen on her notepad. She sat quietly for a moment, but ultimately could not contain her excitement. “Congratulations on noticing, Mary! All of you have been so busy looking out the windows at those three beautiful Galaxy clusters and not one of you thought to look behind us. There were two other, smaller galaxies there that we’ve been studying. They’re catalogued as NGC 55 and NGC 253.”

“I’ll bet you’re having fun with all of this endless new territory to explore,” Mary teased, watching the expression on Julie’s face. “Wasn’t Bravo Point close enough? Did you need the Pathfinder to transit closer to those smaller galaxies?”

“Not at all,” responded Julie. “Without the normal star shine we’re used to dealing with, our telescopes are giving us a tremendous view out here. So now that we’ve surveyed those smaller two clusters – along with the famous first three: M31, M32, and our home ‘Milky Way’ Galaxy – I wanted to move us within range of the final two of the seven major galaxies that comprise our ‘Local Group’. Since we now have the ability to go anywhere we want…” She paused, watching the expressions on their faces, “…I suggested to the Captain that we travel all the way to the other side of the Milky Way so we could begin an immediate analysis of M81 and M82.”

“The Canary probe worked like a charm again,” Glen informed them proudly. “It gave us a good preview of our next planned transit, and after reviewing its data the Captain gave us the go ahead earlier this morning. We traveled almost twice as far as our initial leap out of the Milky Way.”

Adam glanced up from his lazily sketched artwork. “The Milky Way?”

“That’s where we’re from… Earth’s star is located within the Orion arm of the Milky Way galaxy.”

Adam tried as hard as he could to resist, but in the end he couldn’t contain his curiosity. “So how far did we travel this time?” he asked inquisitively.

“The computer estimates the distance to be at least 12.64 million light…”

“No, no, wait a minute,” Adam said, interrupting Glen before he could finish. “You software people are all the same – you just love to use decimals. Floating point, fixed point… I don’t care about the decimal stuff. Estimate, please. Just say 12 and a half million light years or something, but no decimals – okay?”

“Fine,” Glen replied. “We traveled 180 degrees backwards to the original three Galaxies and then continued on for half the distance between the Milky Way and the other two clusters in our local group.” He paused dramatically, watching the expression on Adam’s face. “Total distance is estimated at 12,642,522 light years.”

“That’s incredible,” Mary said, astonished. “It’s hard to believe that we’ve been able to rely on the CAS technology so quickly and make those kinds of long-distance transits. For years we’ve been thinking that a simple transit between planets in our solar system was impressive!”

“This has all been possible because of the protocol that allows us to send a Canary probe ahead first,” pointed out Glen as the door behind him opened and Dr. Simmons entered the room. “If we didn’t have the capability to send a probe ahead to preview the destination area, our ability to leap so far in one transit wouldn’t do us much good. We wouldn’t dare travel that far without knowing what was on the other end. Every time we did so, we’d be risking the entire ship.”

“The ability to just as precisely control and execute so many quick shorter transits is what impressed me,” Mary replied. “The way we used the CAS Drive against the Brotherhood in that battle the other day was so unexpected.”

“No one else has the capability to transit that fast as quickly and precisely,” Glen observed.

Dr. Simmons took a seat at the table and smiled reassuringly at Adam. The elder Roh hadn’t planned on speaking with her about Thomas until after the meeting, so her subtle gesture significantly eased the tension he was feeling. He knew that she wouldn’t just sit down and say nothing if his kid brother wasn’t happily tucked away in his quarters, sound asleep. He quickly checked his watch and noted that the time was 0659, one minute before the meeting was scheduled to begin. At almost the same instant, the door behind Glen opened again and Captain Kaufield entered, followed closely by Colonel Neeland. Each of them grabbed an empty chair and Adam tossed two white foam cups at them and passed along the hot pot of coffee.

“It’s good to see that everyone is ready to go,” the Captain commented, pointing almost immediately at the donut box. He grinned as the baked goods landed in front of him and selected the only remaining chocolate donut, then poured himself and the Colonel a cup of coffee. “We have two basic but important items to discuss today: Deciding where to go next and appointing a governing Council.” He looked around the table with enthusiasm. “Let’s begin, shall we?”

*     * * *     *

Thomas was lying flat on his back on the bed in his quarters, staring at the ceiling. He had woken up almost an hour ago, but was unable to move. He knew he was awake because his eyes were wide open and he could hear people passing by out in the corridor.

What was in that last shot, Doc? He thought idly to himself.

Overall he felt better, but he still was not convinced that his sleep had ended. If he wasn’t currently asleep and dreaming then how come he couldn’t move? He tried as hard as he could but nothing – not even a finger – would twitch. The voices of people passing by continued to drift in to him through the closed cabin door… sometimes there were adults conversing, sometimes he heard the high-pitched voice of a child. Several times he thought that he could hear an infant crying but he could not be certain.

The ceiling began to spin and blur, then reshaped into super-sharp focus. He imagined he could see the texture at its cellular level… then the room spun again and he was all the way down to the atomic and then the sub-atomic. Everything had such a neat pattern to it, he thought quietly to himself. The next thing he tried was to look off to his left and right, still unable to move his body. He also noticed it was really getting hot in the room. Had he left the heat turned on last night? His eyes caught the colored stripes on the wallpaper border at the top of one wall, and he watched them wiggle and dance like giddy circus performers.

He had failed, he knew that much.

They were telling him that his health was more important than his job, that others could cover for him and he didn’t have to push so hard… but he knew the truth. He had let them down! He thought of the military people on board, or the firefighters and law enforcement people back home that had been given no choice but to face the Brotherhood of the Dragon and deal with them. Most of them were probably dead… had given their lives in sacrifice to try and protect the safety of others. And Thomas Roh? Well, he couldn’t even sit quietly at a desk each day and make sure his numbers crunched properly without getting his emotions so twisted together that he was on the verge of an emotional collapse.

Was this a nervous breakdown? Was this depression?

Having always considered himself normal and in good health he couldn’t tell for certain, just knew deep down inside that he had completely failed. How could he go back to his job after what happened and look people in the face? He sobbed quietly to himself and felt anger building in the room around him – the sum of anger from everyone on board that had been relying on him to continue succeeding. They were probably all laughing at him, but he could tell that beneath the laughter was nothing but anger.

His skin felt parched to the point of burning, and he suddenly had the sensation that hot, molten metal was being slowly poured over him. That’s it, he thought fearfully – they’re encasing me in a coffin of melted ore. It felt as if his entire body was dripping with some sort of liquid metal – but without the pain. Then the outer layer would harden as it cooled and the process would repeat, layer after layer. For crying out loud, he tried to scream, do I deserve to become a STATUE? No wonder I can’t move or say anything!

In his mind, Thomas decided that he knew what they were planning. First they were going to display him, site to site, all over the ship. People could walk by and point and laugh, swear at him, or spit. It was their choice. He was going to be the poster boy for failure. Better get your work done, children, the parents would say insistently, or you’ll end up just like THAT.

When they were done with him, they’d find a planet and bury him deep inside to strand him there forever. No one would ever find him. He’d sit there at the bottom of some tunnel, getting hotter and hotter as he burned his way deeper toward the planet’s core and then they’d simply fill the passageway with dirt and pat it level on the surface. What the hell kind of way was that to deal with somebody who had simply stopped sleeping – he had no control over that for God’s sake? He felt angry most of all because with this kind of permanent solution there was no chance for redemption… they just wanted to cast him off as a confirmed failure and leave him to rot inside his metal shell for all time. He began to imagine that there were bugs trapped inside with him, slowly walking casually across his body, pausing occasionally to give him a quick bite. He hoped none of them were poisonous… or, he decided, maybe he should hope that there would be some venom in their bites so the situation would end that much more quickly.

He absolutely couldn’t move any part of his body and it was starting to scare him. The soft nighttime lights overhead seemed to dim, and suddenly he sensed evil in the room… something so dark and so deep that it terrified him horribly. He was trapped and the evil was on its way to claim him… he could sense its approach from outside in the corridor as it moved closer to the door to his quarters. Frantic, his eyes bored into the door as he tried to mentally keep it from opening. What was coming? Was it something dark and magical that would capture his soul for all eternity, or was it simply something that wanted to kill him slowly and then feast gleefully on his flesh and blood?

Thomas could feel his pulse pounding and still he could not move. He struggled to sit up and felt very close to success but it was still a no go. He tried again, his mind warning him that his time to escape was quickly running out. Something hideously evil was about to walk through that door and he did not want to be here when it arrived. Fits of panic began to overwhelm him, and unexpectedly he sat almost fully upright in bed. It took every bit of effort he had and lasted only a second or two before he felt what seemed like an invisible hand press forcefully on his chest and push him back onto the bed. Tears welled at the corners of his eyes and he forced his body upward again, this time swinging his feet out over the floor. Again something he could not see seemed to grab him and force him back onto the bed.

A silent scream echoed in his mind as he forced himself to sit up again – the evil was SO close now. He landed feet first on the floor and ran for the door. Was it out there? To the left or to the right? Thomas slapped the button to open the door and ran quickly into the corridor, covered only in his pajamas. He turned to the right and ran rapidly down the corridor and noticed another closed door ahead of him. THAT’S where the evil is – he knew immediately that he had chosen the wrong way to run!

Reversing his course he noticed two people he did not immediately recognize,, even though they were dressed in light blue medical outfits. They were watching from outside his door and had started down the corridor after him. He could not tell inside his thoughts whether he considered them evil or not but right now his impulse was to run away – anywhere – just get away from them. They caught him before he could start running again and held him firmly as he struggled the entire way. He felt his newfound ability to move fading away and they practically carried him back to his bed. Something cool and wet touched his arm and then he felt the stick of yet another needle piercing the flesh of his arm – they were medicating him again!

Thomas had never felt so pathetic in his life. There’s nothing wrong with me, you fools!

He tried to shout the words out loud but found he could not. Although he had momentarily solved his inability to move he suddenly had no desire to try and run away again. It was obvious to him that the medical personnel were standing watch outside his door to make certain that he didn’t wander out into the passenger section while his system was affected by prescription medication. He also wasn’t so frightened any more… the utter terror he had felt for a moment was suddenly beginning to fade, so he let his body begin to relax again. He noticed one of the medical people adjusting the heat setting on the room’s thermostat and tried to express his gratitude but still could not speak. When sweat is running down your forehead in great big droplets – he thought silently to himself – then it’s definitely time that someone turns the heat down.

A few minutes later he was peacefully sleeping again.

*     * * *     *

“So…” Dennis said carefully, carefully picking apart his second donut slowly and eating it a piece at a time. “We’ve thoroughly discussed the issue of where we might travel to, and I think we should place that item on the back burner for now. Let’s allow everyone to think about it and we’ll revisit the topic at the conclusion of our meeting today.”

“Which brings us to this ‘Council’ we’re supposed to set up?” inquired Adam.

“That’s correct, Mr. Roh. Our ship’s charter was written as a supplement to our U.S. Constitution and automatically appoints me – as acting Captain – to the Presidency. But I’ll tell you right now that I am not eager to fill that role… not under conditions such as we’ve found ourselves left with. I would be more content to serve as a member of the new Council. So I’ll begin as your President, with the intention of handing off that job to someone else down the line.” He scratched his chin thoughtfully. “Twelve is a traditional biblical number, so let’s start out with a total of twelve Council members. Are there any objections to that approach?”

No one said a word. They all just sat there and respected his decisions on the matter.

“I’ve read the ship’s charter. It appears as though some of the key positions from around the ship are automatic appointments,” ventured Mary finally.

“That’s correct. Adam and Glen are in, representing the Hardware and Software Specialists from the Lab wing. I’ve also got…” Kaufield paused to review the notes in front of him… “Julie from the Observatory wing, Mary as Navy and command representative, Karen from our Medical Ward, Jeff from the Garden and Livestock wings, and Colonel Neeland as our Marine go-between.”

“That’s seven total,” pointed out Mary as she tapped the information into an active laptop. She was the person responsible for meeting notes this go around.

“The automatics we just named have the option to appoint two, possibly three more people,” continued the Captain. “Which leaves at minimum two – possibly three – positions available to be filled by civilians. Those people will speak for our passengers.” He nodded to Mary. “Please make a note in the meeting transcript that the department heads on each passenger deck should begin holding meetings and nominating potential candidates. We will want those vacant positions filled by the end of next week.”

“How about we select someone from the hangar bay to fill one of our remaining positions?” Glen suggested. “We could pick Nori or Mad Dog.”

“Mad Dog. Do you mean Andy?” the Captain chuckled. “Now there’s a thought. No…” he said slowly, “With Mary and me on the Council we’ve already got the Navy well represented. Let’s leave Andy to run his hangar bay and Nori to keep the pilots revved and ready for action… as soon as we’ve got fighters and longer-range shuttles back, anyway.”

“How about Father Dixon, the Chaplain?” said Dr. Simmons.

“That’s a great idea, Karen.” Kaufield responded. “We’ve all seen what the Pathfinder can do and I’m not in a hurry to start ignoring people’s faith just because we’ve got a lot of scientific study to do. I think having a spiritual presence on the Council will greatly assist us in our decision making process.”

“So that’s eight. Do we tap one more and make it nine?” wondered Julie. “Now that the CAS Drive is working, we’ll be traveling further and much of the workload for exploration will shift to the Observatory.” She shook her head in disbelief. “You should take a look at just how much data we’ve collected, just in the short time we’ve been out here. It’s really quite astonishing, Captain.” She shrugged. “If you want, I could ask Kari if she wants to help out.”

“I don’t think that will be necessary,” said Dennis, carefully thinking the matter over for a moment. “Like you said, the bulk of our exploratory effort will shift to you and I’d like Kari available to double for you in those instances when your schedule is full.” He glanced over at Dr. Simmons. “Karen, I got an E-Note from Thomas saying that you’ve taken him off duty for a while. Do you have an estimate as to how long that will be?”

The Doctor sat quietly, thinking carefully as to how much to say. “As you know, he’s been diagnosed with a sleeping disorder and stress-related issues,” she said. “Doctor-Patient confidentiality prevents me from giving you all the details, but I can tell you that we’re setting up a treatment plan for him since this is no short term incident. He’s been burying stress deep down inside of him for years without any way to let it out… it finally reached out and bit him.”

“So he’s going to need some time to get himself back together, followed by a lighter duty assignment?” guessed the Captain.

“Yes sir. Once someone develops this kind of sensitivity to anxiety it can easily recur. I wouldn’t at all be surprised if he has to take a permanent lighter workload.” She shook her head and looked across the table at Adam. “He wants to be as successful as his big brother and he’s been working toward that goal his entire life, so I don’t think he completely realizes yet how much happier he’d be if he just throttled back his work schedule a notch or two.”

“Then I nominate Thomas Roh for the ninth position,” the Captain said. “I know he’s a software technician like Glen, but we’ve got lots of computers in both the Lab and Observatory wings… not to mention the rest of the systems all over the ship. We’re going to need someone to act as a liaison, and this would also allow us to more directly control how much we throw on his platter. If he starts having a tough time again we’ll just lighten his workload accordingly or assign him some extra help.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Karen agreed cautiously. “But he may not be able to assume that role for a couple of weeks yet. Perhaps even a month or two. Right now the lack of scheduled activities is more important and will be healthier for him in the long-term than having deadlines and to-do lists assigned.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” replied Dennis. “Father Dixon for spot eight – all opposed?” He looked around the room and saw no hands in the air. “Father Dixon is in. We also nominated Thomas Roh for position nine – all opposed?” Again there were no raised hands. “That settles that.” He leaned back in his chair for a moment, deep in thought before very carefully pouring himself another half cup of coffee. “Mary, I need you to review the meeting notes after we’re through and strike the items relating to Thomas and his condition. I know we promised an open forum, but for his situation I want the record to show only that he is ill and unable to attend meetings or resume his duties until he has received proper treatment from the Medical Ward.”

“Aye, sir.” She replied. “I’ll E-Note you a copy for review. That way you can make any modifications you like prior to publishing the transcript onto the shared database.”

The Captain looked pleased. “Murray, how is security so far?”

“Acceptable,” Colonel Neeland replied. “We’ve been able to establish round the clock patrols at all key areas of the ship.” He smiled slightly. “As long as you quit reassigning my people to positions that are millions of light years from the Pathfinder I think we’ll be in great shape.”

“Ben had fun on that shuttle ride,” Mary laughed. “He told me so himself!”

“He’s also in the history books,” pointed out Glen. “Lightning, Hopper, and Corporal Benjamin Henderson were the first three people we know of to travel outside the boundaries of our home galaxy and return to their departure point inside of it the same day they left.”

The Captain leaned forward, pressing the fingertips of each hand together and leaning his chin on them. “Which eases me back into our earlier topic,” he said enthusiastically. “Where do we go next?”

“I’ll have coordinates on your desk by 1300 this afternoon,” Julie said without hesitation.

“Oh, I’m sure of that,” Kaufield replied. “But after that. What do we do long-term? Just where should we take the Pathfinder?”

“Out there!” Glen said firmly, pointing at the nearest window. Everyone around the table turned and just looked at him. “I’m serious,” he continued. “We know we can use Canary probes periodically to check back home. So let’s put this ship to use.”

“Are you asking for a full-scale exploratory mission?” Julie wondered hopefully.

“Exactly. We’ve studied Intelligent Design versus the Big-Bang theory all our lives. Now we can go and look for ourselves if we want. If the universe is a massive explosion with galaxies and other debris flying apart and slowly cooling over time, we can prove that in under a year… maybe even in under a month. Plus…” he said intensely. “If the Big-Bang did occur, then we’ll discover that our universe is a giant expanding sphere of debris and eventually the Pathfinder will run into its event horizon. Aren’t any of you curious as to just what is on the other side?”

“A mission like that could be dangerous, not to mention faith-shattering to some of our passengers.” Mary said softly. “Believe me, Father Dixon can tell you all you want to know about that subject.”

“I don’t get some of those people,” Julie said. “I really don’t. As if a scientific solution to some of our biggest mysteries somehow disqualifies the concept of Intelligent Design. All it does is confirm that God took his time and really put some serious thought into it!”

“I want to find out, too,” stated Kaufield. “That’s why I signed on to this project.” He held up a hand and pointed directly at Glen. “We’re going to use Canary probes the entire way… stopping as frequently and for as long as Julie’s team requests. And – a lot of this depends on the civilian team yet to be assigned to complete our Council. We’re going to turn the ship around and find somewhere to settle if: (1) we find it’s too dangerous to continue or (2) a quorum of nine of our twelve Council members decides to do so.”

“But we can start?” Julie asked excitedly.

“Yeah, we can start,” Kaufield decided. “Let’s pick a direction and start exploring.” He stood up and smiled with noticeable relief. “Meeting adjourned.”

10: IX: Chaos Theory

THE PATHFINDER PROJECT

Chapter IX: Chaos Theory

Two F-175 fighters and a large cargo shuttle eased cautiously toward a distant point of light in the dark void surrounding them. On board the shuttle were the infamous Walter ‘Lightning’ Douglas and his history-making co-pilot, Bruce ‘Hopper’ Mendez. Flanking them to starboard was a fighter piloted by Nori Andrews, and she was closely followed by one of their newer pilots, Terry ‘Dashboard’ Benson. The three ships were quickly closing the distance, with all four pilots carefully watching the star in front of them grow larger and larger.

“Whaddaya think, Dash?” Walt asked curiously.

“I think I’m glad that all of our support ships are back up and running,” he replied with a harsh chuckle. “It makes me feel safer knowing we have fighter support.”

 “Aren’t you glad you were reassigned from the Avenger? How do you like scouting missions in the middle of nowhere?” He wasn’t kidding. Aside from the star they were approaching and a few other distant speckles, the light from their own ships was the only thing that separated them from the surrounding darkness.

“No complaints here fellas,” replied Dashboard. “It may be a little dark and it may be a little spooky but at least I’m alive and piloting a ship that works properly.” To demonstrate, he kicked in the thruster boost on his fighter and quickly eased in front of Nori’s ship.

“Whoa, there – easy boy!” Nori snapped quickly, trying to reign in her enthusiastic wingman. “Let’s not get too carried away at first, okay?” She glanced down at the computer systems in front of her. “Keep your eyes on motion sensors. If there is something else floating around out here in all this nothingness we’re going to have a lot less time to take evasive. So keep a tight grip on those controls, flyboy!”

“Are you talkin’ dirty to me, Siren?” Dashboard asked, doing his best to push her buttons.

“You wish!” Nori replied smugly. “Remember… whatever you do in the privacy of your own cockpit is your business. It’s not my fault you can’t handle yourself with the ladies.”

“Ouch,” Dashboard replied. “I think I’m hitting the sauce alone tonight.”

“Whaddaya mean tonight?” Bruce said, his tone full of sarcasm. “You drink alone every night you can’t find a good card game.”

“Okay, changing the subject…” decided Dashboard, realizing he wasn’t going to get any help from the guys. “As I understand it, there are quite literally billions of stars to choose from – so why are we heading toward this lonely little place?”

 “Because,” said Walt in response, “According to Dr. Markham, this particular star has a very unique wobble.”

“What?”

“That’s right… it has a wobble,” Walt repeated. “The specialists in the Observatory usually watch for minute fluctuations in a star’s trajectory over the passage of time. That’s just one of the ways they use to determine if there are large objects in orbit. Since planets themselves tend to have their own gravity, they tug at their star as they orbit. And, according to the good Doctor, it only took two days for her to tell that this little star – out here all by itself – has quite possibly the largest and most unique wobble she has ever seen.”

“And you know all this because…”

“Because I’ve been assigned to the Pathfinder project for almost six years,” Walt replied with a satisfied chuckle. “I’ve spent many a night reading up on our mission, as opposed to your mission to take up space in a rack on someone’s boat.”

“We’re hoping to find planets, asteroids, anything that could be a potential source of supplies for us,” added Nori. “The fact that this star is all alone is an added bonus. We search for supplies while the Observatory people study its uniqueness.”

“Well we found something, I’m certain of that!” Bruce said from his co-pilot seat in the shuttle. His motion sensor console was beginning to plot a series of objects in various orbits around the star. They were still very far away but he was definitely detecting planets. “Whooaaa,” he declared softly with growing astonishment. “There’s dozens of them… hundreds! I’d say we’ve got a Charlie Foxtrot of celestial objects orbiting that star!”

“Not only that, but look at their orbits,” Nori said delightedly. “The Observatory is going to have fun with this one.”

“They sure are,” commented Bruce with satisfaction. He switched one of his monitors to a 3-dimensional image of the star system and whistled softly to himself. “This place is a mess, not at all like your everyday average star system. It looks like a giant atom – most of the planets are orbiting on different planes.” He paused, reviewing the data flow. “Not only that, but the computer projects that most of the planets pass closer to the sun on one side and then fly way the hell out to a more distant point when their orbit reaches the other. When they travel that far out, how come they don’t reach escape velocity and soar off into the great beyond?”

“It’s got to be the gravity from all of them combining somehow and keeping what we see together,” Walt mused thoughtfully. “Organized chaos, and everything that couldn’t find a stable orbit probably did just fly off on its own... long ago. I’ll bet some of those planets and moons collide with each other occasionally, too – what a show that would be.” He turned in his seat to get a better look at the co-pilot’s monitor. “There aren’t any other major stars nearby… that could be a factor too. Nothing tugging at those rocks but their star and each other.”

“This sun either left the galaxy it originated in long ago or it never was part of another star group,” Nori speculated idly. “Most likely the former. Dr. Markham was hoping that there would be planets or at least an asteroid field that we can study – objects that have been here for millions of years and will yield clues as to the building blocks of our universe.”

“Oh, there are planets, moons and all kinds of asteroids,” Bruce said excitedly. “The computer is estimating at least 1,083 planets and smaller planetoids. There are also five – count ‘em FIVE – unique asteroid belts orbiting at various distances from the star. I’m also detecting a spherical, comet-filled Oort cloud on the outer edges of the system.” He grinned. “And that’s just what we’re able to detect from this side of the sun.”

“It does look like some kind of huge atom,” Dashboard decided. “I’ve plotted one planet orbiting in a zero degree circle at about the same level as we’re coming in. A second planet is orbiting at Z+24 degrees, a third at Z+112 degrees, and a fourth at Z-35 degrees. This is the most disorganized collection of planets and moons I’ve ever seen.”

“Doesn’t matter if it’s a little bit unusual,” said Nori confidently. “The Observatory folks were impressed by unusual, and it’s not like we’re going to stick around long enough to live here or anything.” She glanced out her cockpit at the F-175 still flanking her to port. “What do you read, Hopper?” she asked. “I’m not getting any wireless, radio, or other signs of intelligent life. I think we’ve got a winner for potential raw materials.”

“Copy that,” Bruce replied. “If there’s anybody in this system, they haven’t built anything that generates a whole lot of electricity yet.”

“Then why don’t you two fellas make a quick transit back to the Pathfinder for us,” Nori suggested. “And let them know it’s safe to approach the star system and set up shop.”

“Acknowledged,” Walt replied. “We’ll be back in a flash… pun intended.”

*     * * *     *

Thomas was very cold this time. The people that were most angry with him had come up with a new idea. He was still encased in metal, but this time rather than bury him deep in the heated center of some miscellaneous planet they had decided to shoot him out into deep space. He was drifting free amongst the stars, watching them slowly but surely fall farther and farther behind him as he headed relentlessly on his way out of the Galaxy.

Time was not an issue here.

In fact, he decided, it no longer mattered at all. That’s why they had chosen this form of punishment for him. It was very cold, he was moving rapidly away from everyone he had known, and he was completely alone. The years, then decades, then centuries would pass and he would still be stuck – encased in a metallic body and drifting through the heavens for all time. Soon he would be so lonely that it would be unbearable, Thomas could already feel the pressure starting to build in his head.

There was only one thing different than before.

This time he was vaguely aware that it was all some sort of hallucination brought on by the medication that he had been given.

How did he know?

Well, for one thing he could still remember the people in the hall that had quickly grabbed him the last time he had awakened and begun wandering around in the corridor.

If it’s all a dream, he reasoned, then all I should have to do is wake myself up. He tried as hard as he could, several times, but nothing changed. He was traveling farther and farther out into the depths of space, drifting away toward a lonely place where no one else existed. He felt panic and tried again but still nothing changed. It was cold and he couldn’t move inside his metal shell. From a distance he thought he heard voices, one of which sounded like the Captain.

“I’m telling you,” the Captain was saying tersely,“This is the last time we waste our time welding that SOB back together again!” Another wave of panic shook him… they were talking about him! He tried to tell them that this was all just some sort of weird, medication reaction and nothing to be concerned about. But there was still no one there, and he wondered if the voice he had heard was real or if it had only been part of his imagination.

Then he sensed the evil again and wondered where it was this time.

He was just a small floating object in the heavens and yet he suddenly realized that it was angrily pursuing him, struggling to catch up. His brain filled with frustration as he simultaneously tried to wake himself up and will himself to go faster. What was different this time was that not only could he sense the evil that was approaching, but he knew what it planned to do.

Water was the source of all biological life in the universe. It filled the lakes and oceans, played a crucial role in weather, and helped newly sprouted plants to grow as they poked through the dirt in their newfound journey toward sunlight. It was also something that could be taken away, and that was what the evil force behind him was up to this time. It had found him again and this time its goal was to eradicate water, not just from all planetary bodies, but to destroy every drop of water in the entire universe.

Thomas felt panicked, and he tried to move, to do anything to stop the evil. He felt the frustration begin pounding in his head again and he fought for consciousness, struggling to do anything to stop the terrible plan from unfolding. It was something that was still beyond him, and he could feel the pressure building inside of his brain.

“Stop it, stop it, just STOP!” he tried to scream. Without water there would be no chance for life to survive anywhere in the universe, and he was determined that the metal coffin surrounding him would break. But its walls held and he continued to drift along in space with the evil coming closer and closer with each passing second. He screamed again, because it wasn’t just evil that he sensed this time, but something supernatural as well. MAGIC could do things, evil things, to his very soul if it wanted to while he lay – completely trapped – in his metal coffin.

“No!!!!” he screamed inside his dream as loud as he could. The pressure inside his head had built to the breaking point and he was sure that this was the end of him and everyone else. It was their fault, after all, because they had sent him drifting away into the heavens and now he was helpless to do anything but wait and hope to be found.

That was when he began to first sense the pressure easing.

He wasn’t sure if the evil had lost some of its strength or if something positive had joined the picture – but he knew that the force that had begun to spread across the heavens to search and destroy all water was suddenly fighting for its very life. He smiled, glad that someone or something had decided to help him win the fight, because he still floated onward, trapped and unable to contribute. The evil presence continued to dwindle away until finally he couldn’t detect it at all anymore, and a newfound sense of happiness and satisfaction settled over him. It was better this way, him spending eternity among the heavens, as long as everyone else was okay and could go on with their lives.

Abruptly Thomas Roh snapped awake, his eyes flickering quickly to focus on their usual spot on the ceiling. This time though the view was vastly different – they had moved him to the Medical Ward at some point during the past several days. He felt a very cool breeze brushing his cheek and he took a deep breath as he sat up to stretch his arms and legs.

On the table next to him was a glass of ice water. He grabbed it and quickly drank all the liquid, feeling much better as he did so. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed but didn’t quite feel like getting up yet, so he sat there for a while and chewed on the ice bits in the glass.

“How are you feeling?” Dr. Simmons asked, entering the room. She held a tray of food in one hand and came over to his bedside and placed her other hand on his forehead. “You feel kind of clammy kiddo.”

“I’m okay,” Thomas insisted, handing her the glass. Karen set the tray of food down next to his bed and pointed, but he quickly shook his head. “I guess I’m not that hungry,” he said softly. “Although if you could get me another glass of ice water that would be great!”

“Okay,” she said, moving toward a nearby sink. She refilled the cup and handed it back to him. “Sip it slower this time, would you please?”

“Yes, Doctor,” he replied slowly. “Am I going to be okay?”

“In time,” she said firmly. “The shots we’ve been giving you have helped us to bring your anxiety under control. So now we can try prescribing some pills – which – if you take the correct dosage at the proper time – will eventually allow you to return to duty.”

“Pills?” he said, almost spitting the word. “How long do I have to take those?” A chill went through him as the Doctor turned to give him a dirty look.

“You can either do as you’re told, Thomas, or we’ll let your body work itself back into its anxious state. If that happens we’ll have no choice but to start giving you shots again to settle you back down.” He looked at the expression on her face and suddenly decided that pills didn’t really seem so bad after all.

“Who knows about me?” he asked cautiously. “Is the whole ship laughing by now?”

“Only the people who need to know have been told,” said Karen. “And no one is laughing at your misfortune, I’m happy to say. So I think that you should behave yourself so we can help you adjust to this new stage of your life. Things are going to change, and you’d better prepare yourself for that.”

“What if I don’t want them to?” he asked.

“Trust me,” she said. “I’ve spoken with the Captain and your brother. I’ll let Adam know you’re awake – he’s been asking when he can stop by to see you. Things are going to be just fine, Thomas. Remember, there are others going through this, too. It is an illness caused by a chemical imbalance in your brain… the same kind of treatable condition a broken leg would be.” She grabbed him by the chin with one hand and stared into his fatigued eyes. “It is also something that is most certainly NOT your fault, young man, no matter what you might hear or imagine you hear other people say.”

*     * * *     *

Three full weeks had now passed since the Brotherhood’s attack on Earth and Kaufield was beginning to feel a lot better. He stood next to one of the technicians in the hangar bay’s control room, watching one of their two larger shuttles, the Ranger, cruise slowly in for a soft landing. The vessel carried yet another full load of ore mined from one of the asteroids in the star system they had found, and he estimated that their supplies of the valuable mineral, when converted to its liquid fuel counterpart, would be back to near 100 percent. The ore that was not immediately refined into usable fuel would be stored in the cargo areas… all of which were located around the edges of the hangar bay. With their standard PTP engine shut down and the CAS Drive in use on a full-time basis, this meant that their supply of fuel was now virtually unlimited.

The shuttle eased to a slow stop and was immediately surrounded by Andy ‘Mad Dog’ Wolf and his hangar crew. All of them wore specially reinforced pressure suits and quickly opened the side and rear hatches of the shuttle – they expertly began to unload the ore fragments and other items that the survey teams had found. The shuttles were designed for multiple uses, one of which was to transport newfound supplies discovered on strange worlds. During those missions special flaps would open and all areas except for the cockpit would depressurize. This was the first level of their quarantine precautions to prevent strange bacteria or viruses from entering the Pathfinder’s sensitively-balanced eco-system – expose the material to the cold vacuum of space. Naturally each shuttle’s flaps could also remain closed when necessary in order to maintain a pressurized environment while carrying human passengers.

The ore was either stored in the hangar or moved to the rear of the bay and poured down a series of chutes into a carefully monitored furnace in the ship’s Lab wing. The ore thereby never reached a pressurized environment – it was stored for future use or else dumped into the furnace, melted, and promptly refined into usable fuel. Other raw materials gathered during supply runs would be treated in the same manner… super-heated before use. This was the second level of the Pathfinder’s quarantine process.

Although technically they could recycle water indefinitely, it had been Kaufield’s experience that the process of living, breathing and working in a human society inevitably created some rather disgusting substances and chemicals. He was relieved that their exploration of the new star system had also yielded a large supply of ice. That gave him the opportunity to dump much of the normal waste material they had accumulated on their journey thus far without having to ask their technicians to reclaim the water from it first. The members of his crew were specially trained to do the difficult tasks whenever necessary but sometimes it was better for morale if they simply jettisoned the nastier stuff. All they had to do was make sure they had a matching supply of easier-to-obtain resources first. As with the fuel ore, the ice was heated into steam, then condensed and finally filtered into usable water before any of it was transferred to the upper areas of the ship.

If an emergency occurred, the large starship was also capable of landing directly on a planet, moon or asteroid to directly gather resources. Having the Pathfinder immediately available on site would greatly speed up the process of mining, gathering, and transporting supplies to the ship. That was an option that the Captain was glad they didn’t need, presently. He had heard through the grapevine that everyone on the ship – except for Julie and her Observatory staff – was currently referring to the star system they had found as the “Atomic Nightmare”. And it most certainly was that, according to several of the pilots who had found lots of surprises amidst the various pockets of unpredictable gravity that one would expect in such a cluttered star system. Keeping the re-supply effort limited to fighters and shuttles was definitely preferable and a positive for them this time.

So far they hadn’t truly needed anything except for water in order to supplement supplies for the Garden and Livestock wings. That was also a positive, because any soil, plants, or other living things that they might need above the hangar deck would have to pass quarantine level three… a precise, methodical analysis and review by the botanist, medical, and veterinary teams on board. Anything other than unanimous approval from those specialists would prompt Dennis to restrict the resource from moving above the hangar bay. No set of precautionary procedures was ever perfect, but on a ship like the Pathfinder – filled with all sorts of living people, plants, and animals – they had to do the best that they could. One unknown bacteria or virus slipping aboard undetected could quickly infect vital personnel and interfere with ship functions before they even had a chance to respond. Especially in this case they were being extra cautious since the patrol team, led by Noriana Andrews, had found traces of what might have once been biological life on several of the planets. Only a science team could tell for certain.

It was therefore extremely unfortunate that, on this, the first of many resupply missions, one member of the crew chose to ignore the quarantine process and deliberately slipped a few of the mineral rocks into the pocket of his flight suit. The Brotherhood spy hidden among the crew knew that he would be searched before leaving the hangar bay, but was not the least bit concerned, since he remembered that those procedures were set up to handle carelessness and not a deliberate effort at deception. He had gone through the drills, was trained in proper procedure, and certified by ship’s security as a deckhand specialist. He was very confident that he would still be able to smuggle the small rocks back to his quarters. And everyone knew that unrefined ore of this type was usually unstable. He visualized the Pathfinder’s configuration in his mind and began reviewing possibilities as to just where a small, well-placed explosive device would do the most damage.

Revenge would soon be his trophy to claim on this journey.

*     * * *     *

Thomas Roh had spent an unbearable two weeks trying to adjust to his new medication in the privacy of his quarters. The lack of something, anything to do was driving him nuts and he had tried everything he could think of to settle down and make himself feel useful again. Adam had been by during the morning hours to visit for a few minutes before his duty shift started. He had encouraged Thomas to get out and about for a bit… perhaps to try one of the restaurants on their passenger deck. He had refused, still too ashamed to go out and let people see him after his perceived failure. It was almost noon now and so far this day he had accomplished nothing.

Once again the younger Roh settled down in the easy chair behind his desk and attempted to read. His complete inability to concentrate on written text for any length of time was really frustrating him, particularly when he could normally buzz through a tremendous amount of reading material and absorb the vast majority of it with his near photographic memory in a few short hours.

The medication that Dr. Simmons had given him helped him sleep for the first week or so, but it had clouded his mind. The sharp focus and ability to concentrate that had always been a key factor in Thomas’ ability to do work was completely disrupted, and – after ten days of trying unsuccessfully to regain his ‘normal’ mental faculties the young man had simply made the decision to stop taking the medication altogether and take charge of restoring himself to his original, undamaged condition. After all, he reasoned, no one could order him to take medication that everyone admitted would have at least some side effects and impair his normal performance.

Naturally he hadn’t told anyone. Dr. Simmons had checked in on him almost every day for the first week. After she was satisfied that he was sleeping okay, she had simply given him a prescription for the three types of pills that he was supposed to take regularly and requested that he notify her if there were any side effects. Side effects, he thought grimly to himself. The anti-depressant alone had been sending him to the toilet twice an hour every time he finished eating a decent meal, not to mention the dizziness and the morning dry-mouth.

But things weren’t working out quite like he had anticipated. He had still been able to put on a normal facade during his morning visit with Adam, but things were getting out of control again. To Thomas’ horror had come the realization that – without the medication to help him – he could no longer fall asleep normally on his own. Once again he had gone four straight nights without a wink of sleep and his brain was beginning to feel the effects. Further, the paranoid little voice in his mind that had plagued him during his dream-like states was becoming more and more insistent in its claims that he was somehow screwing everything up again.

Thomas had never been angrier at God or at himself. Why couldn’t he deal with the anxiety that 99 percent of the crew were currently handling? Why was he the one that this was happening to? Everyone else could fall asleep at night without pills to help them. With nothing to do but sit in his cabin and think about it he had simply confused himself more. His plan to return to work as soon as possible and resume his duty assignment now seemed like a near impossible task.

He also knew that Adam had been dating Nori Andrews for some time, and the lack of romance in his own life also frustrated him. He was an intelligent fellow, true, but keeping up with Adam was a constantly moving goalpost that he had found harder and harder to chase with each passing year. He knew his brother only seemed perfect, but he could not deny the glaring fact that a lot of the social and physical graces that seemed to come so easily to the elder Roh had always required considerably more effort from him. He had never understood how some of the things that took every ounce of his effort and concentration to achieve just seemed to come so naturally for other people… especially Adam.

He had started to cry again. Tears rolled down his cheeks… yet another reason why he didn’t want the rest of the crew to see him. A grown man crying? What a pathetic display he was putting on as one of only two Roh representatives on board! He had to admit that Dr. Simmons was correct and that no miracle cure would be forthcoming, so what use was he? On a ship where everybody was supposed to contribute as much as possible in order for the ship as a whole to function properly, what was he going to do – swab the decks? He had already decided that he was not going to be some sort of eccentric shut-in for others to laugh at… eating the ship’s food and sitting in his quarters just staring at the walls and ceilings. That was not going to happen – not with the few remaining survivors of his people left on board who were relying on those scarce and precious resources in order to possibly build a new future.

He stared furiously at the three bottles of medication sitting innocently on the top of the nightstand next to his bed. Under normal circumstances it was only five hours until his evening dose. He was supposed to take one pill from the bottle on the left at 5:00 p.m. and then one pill from each bottle an hour before bedtime. He repeated the last two words angrily in his head: “before bedtime”.

What if he wanted to stay up and pull an all-nighter studying?

This is no way to live, he decided suddenly. He stood up and wiped the tears from his cheeks, embarrassed by his inability to control his emotions and determined to avoid becoming yet another problem for Captain Kaufield and his busy crew. His mind analyzed the problem and came up with a projection as to how far his condition would continue to deteriorate without sleep. Four short days this time was all it had taken and he was already a babbling idiot.

He puffed up his chest with pride and remembered that he had mentally assumed responsibility for dealing with his condition at the moment he decided to stop taking the medication as prescribed. Without any hesitation whatsoever – he tossed aside the bottle of anti-depressants and picked up the remaining two bottles. He didn’t swallow all the pills they contained but he came close… needing another glass of water to finish the job. That done he laid down on his back and faced the ceiling. He had come to know it pretty well in the past two weeks and, hopefully after tonight, he would never have to look at it again. Thomas didn’t remember the exact point where he finally fell asleep…

…but all of a sudden he was awake and laying on his back in one of the Medical Ward beds, staring at that room’s ceiling. He stretched his arms and legs to make certain that he was still alive and found… to his disbelief… that he was extremely glad he had failed in the attempt to take his own life. Dr. Simmons came in and noticed that he was awake – he didn’t dare say anything and she picked up one of his test results, then turned and left the room without saying a word.

I’m sorry, he tried to yell at her, but common sense wouldn’t let him say the words. I’m sorry for being such a pathetic excuse for a man! I’m sorry I tried to save the ship the trouble of caring for me and bungled the attempt! I’m sorry for everything! He found his eyes streaming with tears again and he finished with a simple, I’m sorry I didn’t trust you, Doctor…

Karen came back in and set some equipment on one of the counters near a sink. She worked for a moment with her back facing him. Finally, she turned around and pulled up a chair, sitting down next to his bed. “I just have three questions for you right now, Thomas. Then I’ll let you rest for the day.”

“Okay,” he said, trying and failing to hide the shame he felt.

“What would you have done when we were stuck dead in the water back in our home star system if I had stopped by, interrupted your CAS testing, and ordered you to help me out with disinfecting some of my equipment here in the Medical Ward.”

“That’s easy,” he replied. “I’d have told you that I had Captain’s orders to get the CAS Drive on-line and that giving orders contrary to his is not your responsibility.” She sat quietly for a moment and let him think about his answer.

“What if I had offered to take over your part of the CAS testing while you were gone? That way, no one would have noticed your absence.”

“Are you nuts …?” Thomas started to say. “I studied for years just to grasp the basic concepts of CAS, and you don’t know anything about…” He stopped talking at the sudden realization of just how foolish his actions had been. Another wave of shame swept through him and he wiped the tears from his eyes, suddenly noticing that his left hand was bandaged. Again he saw the Doctor looking at him angrily.

“I’ll tell you how your hand was injured if you really want to know…” she said.

“No, I don’t think that’s necessary,” he decided.

“Just remember to thank your brother later,” she added. “If Adam hadn’t stopped by to check on you when his shift ended yesterday evening you wouldn’t be here chatting with me right now. That’s how close you came to succeeding, young man!” Karen stood up and moved the chair back to its original location near the sink. “Final question,” the Doctor continued. “Adam said that you’ve commented to him on numerous occasions that you’re not quite the natural athlete that he is… how you have to stick more to the software programming side of things because you’re not the type who’s going to make a career out of moving heavy equipment back and forth.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s true,” Thomas said slowly.

“Well then, that makes your brain your greatest asset,” she said quickly. “So will you please use it from now on? As far as I can tell, your little overdose incident hasn’t caused you any permanent damage but we’ll have to let time be the final judge on that one.”

“Oh no…” gasped Thomas as it occurred to him how big a price he almost paid by dying, and how much permanent damage he had risked to himself by taking matters into his own hands. “Oh no…”

“Oh yes!” the Doctor said firmly. “Do you have any idea just what kind of emotional damage you’d have done to Adam by taking your own life? He doesn’t have a lot of family left, Thomas, and you almost made him live with his brother’s suicide, too. Not to mention all the friends you’ve made who still care a great deal about your welfare… even if you don’t think they do.” She stopped in the room’s doorway and pointed at three brand new bottles on the counter. “I’ve prescribed a different anti-depressant for you. That one small change should take care of your loose stool problems after meals. You’re going to stay right here in the Medical Ward until I’m satisfied you’ve had two full nights of sleep. Then you’re going back to your quarters, where you will stay until I think you’re ready for limited duty assignments. And if I hear or see anything that makes me believe you’re not following my instructions to the letter…” she paused for dramatic emphasis. “…I’ll assign one of my staff to stay with you, as your roommate, twenty-four hours a day and personally make certain you take your medication as prescribed. Do I make myself clear, mister?”

“I thought you were going to ask three questions and then that would be it.” Thomas said wryly, smiling weakly. He expected her to lose control and begin shouting, but she actually smiled a bit at his joke and it made him feel better.

“Dr. Hagen says that you haven’t been keeping your appointments. I expect that will change too.” She disappeared out the door without another word. Thomas leaned his head back deep into his pillow and held up his bandaged left hand. He had absolutely no memory of anything that had happened after he had fallen asleep in his quarters, and he found himself feeling extremely happy about that.

*     * * *     *

The spy had been in his quarters for most of the morning and part of the afternoon. It was his day off, after all. On his desk sat three small dark stones that he had managed to smuggle back to the room concealed in his mouth. It had actually made him chuckle how easy it was to simply acknowledge people with a nod instead of the usual hello and have them pass by none the wiser. He picked up one of the stones and began scraping powder off of its surface with a letter opener. He let the powder fall into a small pile on the desk, occasionally pausing for a brief moment to scrape the dust into a paper envelope.

Just three small stones was all that he would need. Three. Once reduced to powder he had only to mix the substance with a small supply of liquid fuel – easily obtainable from the shuttle tanks during normal hangar bay maintenance – and he would have at his disposal a very small, very powerful explosive device. All that remained was for him to choose a final spot on the Pathfinder where his little surprise would do the most damage. He was still very determined to make the crew pay for what they had done to his people on the warship, and for taking him so far away from his home. Unexpectedly, he heard something behind him.

Startled, the Brotherhood clone spun in his chair and stared at the far side of the room. Out of the corner of his eye he thought he had detected movement and – since he was definitely in the process of breaking ship’s regulations and committing treason – he was understandably a bit paranoid. There was no one else in his quarters but he nonetheless sat motionless for quite some time. He could swear he had seen movement and he was also certain that he had heard the soft rustle of someone moving around back there. Fear was not something that he had been trained to feel, but right now the emotion was raging throughout his entire body.

11: X: Phantasmagoria

THE PATHFINDER PROJECT

Chapter X: Phantasmagoria

Three days later Thomas was in much better shape. He moved back to his quarters and found himself able to read again… as long as he took breaks now and then. He also found that his thought process became sharper and more focused as each afternoon turned to evening, so he spent most of the time during the morning hours getting extra sleep. It became old-hat almost immediately – he would wake up early in the morning with his stomach growling and eat a bowl of cereal or two. After that, he would either go immediately back to bed or else monitor the ship’s news reports from his work station. Even if he stayed up, he inevitably found himself couch-bound for a quick cat-nap or two until 11:00 a.m. rolled around.

Dr. Simmons checked in at least once per day to monitor his progress and he found himself being a lot more truthful with her these days. She smiled approvingly when she heard how much time he was spending asleep, commenting that “There may be hope for you, yet.” She also noted that his body had quite probably needed the extra shut-eye for years and he had simply ignored that need. “Your body has a way of getting what it wants,” she warned him cautiously. “As you get older your metabolism changes, so if you’re a person who needs more sleep than everyone else does you’re going to have no choice but to make some adjustments.”

He had already met twice with Dr. Keith Hagen, the ship’s psychiatrist, and found him to be a pleasant and helpful man who did a lot of listening. At first Thomas told him everything, confiding to the Doctor things that he had kept secret for years and would never have dared tell anyone else. The feeling of relief he got from finally taking the time to share some of the darker parts of himself really helped, and he found that the Doctor’s encouragement to get past that and move on with a much brighter enthusiasm for life was also helping him. He was still thinking about – and concerned with – his future, but having all of his responsibilities temporarily suspended and the ongoing escape from the daily grind he had lived with for most of his adult life allowed him to really slow down for once and catch his breath.

Adam was the biggest help. His brother sent him E-Notes in the morning and during the lunch hour of his daily shift. At the end of each day, the elder Roh also stopped by to see him and they would have supper and just talk about life in general. It didn’t take long for Thomas to realize that – after talking about the things he considered to be the most hideous part of himself with Dr. Hagen – it quickly became easier to begin discussing some of those issues with Adam, too. He also noticed that many of the things he had talked about with the Doctor didn’t seem quite so bad anymore.

Additionally, a couple of the tougher issues that had really bothered him he left behind in Dr. Hagen’s office and no longer felt he needed to mention to Adam. Particularly, it began to dawn on him how many other people felt the same way that he did or had the same problems. It didn’t take long before he stopped loathing what he had become and began to enthusiastically explore the brand new world – and its limitless options – ahead of him. He soon began to feel like a normal, flawed human being… someone who no longer felt the need to try and be perfect every minute of every day.

He had always felt as though relying too much on his family for emotional support would be perceived by others as a weakness. Now he didn’t care about that, and found the relationship with his brother expanding in a way it never could have before. Repeatedly he would barrage Adam with questions about the Pathfinder’s ongoing exploratory mission, and in the evenings he read everything that he could find regarding Dr. Markham’s assessment of the ‘Atomic Nightmare’ star system that they had found.

 

“Actually,” Adam commented during his latest visit, “We’ve left that system behind already. The supply runs were done anyway and our enthusiastic Dr. Markham is after fresh game.”

“So how far have we come?” asked Thomas eagerly. Normally he would know off the top of his head, but without at least an occasional visit to the Lab wing he was cut off from his normal sources of information.

“I don’t even know,” decided Adam. “But Julie is in complete heaven. Her team made thorough studies of the M81 and M82 galaxies and then we transited far beyond them to the infamous ‘Atomic Nightmare’. The Captain paused just long enough to do another detailed survey, refresh our supplies, and now we’ve hopped through space several times again.” He took a sip of coffee from his mug and set it on the kitchen table. “As you know, they have plenty of survey points picked out so it’s tough to measure exact distances. We’re still moving outward from our home galaxy, but our course is definitely not a straight line by any sense of the word.”

“How much new stuff can they be finding?” Thomas wondered. “It’s not like we just invented the telescope yesterday. From everything I’ve heard most galaxies are pretty much the same… a spiral helix composed mostly of cooler red giant stars.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised,” Adam said. “I’ll have today’s series of pictures that the Observatory submitted for review forwarded to your workstation. It’s not so much the galaxies they’re interested in these days, but the occasional very unique objects they find all alone out here scattered and hidden between them.”

“I hope they’re keeping a record of our destination coordinates,” commented Thomas. “If we run low on supplies and they become difficult to find, it would be nice to know that we have a few safe locations to return to.”

“That’s another report I’ll send your way,” Adam decided. “We’re beginning to enter the area where there’s a growing margin for error. Some of the Canary probes we sent back to our home system as a test came out of their transit beyond the orbit of Pluto. The further outward we travel, the more unreliable our older coordinates become.” He studied the design of his coffee mug casually. “Everything in the universe is in constant motion, just as we have always suspected.”

 “We knew that would happen fairly quickly. That’s why they should steer more toward visiting the larger galaxies,” Thomas concluded. “The computer can take a lot of that gravitational drift into account and estimate adjustments. And by sticking to the galaxy clusters we can literally come out of PTP light years off course and still be able to find the damned things with a telescope.”

“Believe me, they are taking that into account,” grinned Adam. “The ‘Atomic Nightmare’ was just too much to resist. The Observatory team had a blast mapping some of the gravity fields. Dr. Markham wants to come back in a few months when some of the planets on the far side of the sun are on the side we mapped and vice versa. She’s willing to bet that the gravity pockets will be completely different by then.”

“Utter chaos with so many objects in so many different orbits, and yet the system somehow holds together despite all that.”

“That’s right,” Adam said, rising from his seat and setting his mug in the sink. “By the way, I almost forgot to mention that you’ve been voted in as an official representative on our new Council. So there will be more than just interesting reading material arriving at your workstation soon.”

“You’re kidding me, right? Didn’t they appoint you, too?”

“Of course they did. But the Pathfinder needs both Rohs helping to run things and everyone on board knows it.” He grabbed Thomas and hugged his brother warmly. “I’ll be back to see you again tomorrow… just call me on the Comm-link if you need anything until then.”

“Thanks,” Thomas said gratefully. “Thanks for being my brother Adam.”

*     * * *     *

It was already getting late when Adam got back from his latest visit with Thomas. He entered his quarters and immediately got himself a bottle of water out of a small refrigerator. He sat down in the recliner next to his bed and closed his eyes to relax for a minute. Most of the Pathfinder’s systems were in good shape these days, but he continued to stick to the maintenance schedule they had carefully laid out back on Earth’s moon. Electronic equipment didn’t always handle high levels of current or heat very well and everyone knew the CAS Drive generated plenty of both. They were doing very well though… all of the software and hardware they had labored for so long to set up was working as reliably as promised.

“Is that you, Adam honey?” said a soft voice from his bathroom.

“Nori?” he gasped in surprise. “Geez, I had no idea that you were stopping by tonight… you should have said something.”

“If I had said something, you certainly wouldn’t be surprised right now, would you?”

“No… no I wouldn’t be.” he said slowly. “What are you up to?”

“Nothing,” she said innocently, walking out of the bathroom in the skimpiest negligee he had ever seen. It hugged her curves perfectly and he could still see every single inch of her beneath the thin black material as easily as if she stood completely naked before him. She sat down in his lap and suddenly Adam was shifting uncomfortably. “This is your easy chair, isn’t it?” she whispered in his ear. Her tongue quickly followed the words.

“Gee, nobody’s ever used that line before,” he growled slightly, trying his best – and failing – to stand up straight. “Okay, now hold on for a minute… I worked ten hours today plus spent a couple more visiting with Thomas. Don’t I get a few minutes to myself?” Nori casually touched a spot on the back of her neck and the negligee dropped quickly to the carpet below. He waited until she finished undressing him before he lifted her into his arms. “I guess not…” he decided, kissing her with pure delight.

*     * * *     *

Jack Dandridge angrily walked into his quarters after yet another go around with Father Dixon from the ship’s Chapel. He was the one who had originally confronted the Chaplain, Mary, and Corporal Henderson after the memorial service almost three weeks ago now. Since he worked with Mad Dog’s hangar crew, his quarters were located on the bottom deck of the Pathfinder’s four-level passenger section. He was almost completely at a loss for words, these days, when even a priest like Dixon couldn’t understand how offensive some of the gaudier religious artifacts could be to a true believer like himself. He was fed up and had decided the time had come to send an E­­­-Note to the Captain himself on the subject.

Seeing the elderly, bearded gentleman seated in his quarters caught him completely by surprise. He stared at the intruder and the soft white aura that seemed to surround him with complete astonishment. “Just who the hell are you?” he asked snidely.

“I am God,” the man said simply.

“Oh yeah, well I’m calling security. You can spend your time in jail trying to convince the marines that you’re of divine nature.” Jack thought for a brief moment and then asked “Just out of curiosity, why haven’t you ever show yourself to us before?”

“Does it matter?” the man asked curiously.

“Yes, people like me are forced to rely upon old, crumbling documents from our distant past as proof of your existence. If you just came out and told everyone how wrong their beliefs are, I could help correct them.”

“What makes you so sure of that?”

“Look, I’ve had a tough evening already, arguing about religion… okay?” Jack said irritably. “Just get out of my quarters right now and I won’t call security this time.”

“You’ve dared to join one of the radical religious groups, one that doesn’t worship all ten commandments and now your conscience is bothering you,” the white-robed gentleman said simply. “You’re asking yourself if you’ve done the right thing.”

“Who are you?” demanded Jack.

“You may call me David,” the man responded. “Your anger comes from deep within you… your doubts and insecurities about your own faith have caused you to begin pointing out flaws you perceive to be present in the beliefs of others. That doesn’t make you right, you know… trying to make yourself feel better by trying to force others to acknowledge your beliefs. And it certainly doesn’t guarantee you safe passage into the afterlife when you throw such effort into sowing turmoil into the lives and faith of your fellow crew members. They have the same right to choose their personal beliefs as you do.”

“Get out of my quarters, David,” Jack shouted, reaching out to grab the man’s arm. Again he felt astonishment as his hand passed right through the man’s body. He stepped backward, completely surprised and quickly reached to turn on the lights. His hand hit the wall pretty hard, making several quick thumping noises before he finally found the correct switch. David was still seated on his couch, smiling gently at him.

“You hold a lot of anger in your heart, don’t you Jack?” guessed David. “You lost your wife and two children and you’re angry because you weren’t back on Earth with them when the attack came. That way you’d be with them in paradise right now, rather than having to fend for yourself on a ship full of non-believers… am I right?”

“How do you know all of that?” Jack asked quickly. “How do you know I had a family?”

“Had a family? I think you give up too easily,” David pointed out. “You come from a rural region on your world. Perhaps they survived the attack and are still alive.”

“A whole lotta good that would do me, stuck out here.” Jack said spitefully. “You should hear everyone talking about the ‘wonders’ that we’ve already found exploring. I didn’t get transferred off of the Pathfinder in time to go home, and now we’re never going to go back. In fact, we keep going in the wrong direction!”

“If the Brotherhood remains in control of Earth for any length of time, then I think that your presence here is the best thing for you… don’t you?”

“No!” thundered Jack heatedly. “What the hell good does it do for me to be alive if I never get to see my family again.” He sat down on the couch beside David and began sobbing. “I miss my family so much it’s killing me! Things were going to be so great for us in another year or so. I was almost in a high enough position with my company where we’d have been able to get a decent house and possibly have another kid.”

“You look a little flushed, Jack. Perhaps you should lie down for a bit.” David suggested, reaching over and placing a hand on his forehead. The deckhand began to feel very dizzy suddenly and a distinct chill swept through his body even though he usually kept the room’s temperature quite warm. He swung his legs up on the couch, noting idly that they too passed completely through David’s body. He settled back into a comfortable position, feeling a wave of fatigue sweep through him and decided that the day wasn’t a total loss. After all, it wasn’t every day that he came home to find God waiting for him.

*     * * *     *

The spy continued gathering scrapings from the single remaining mineral rock as fast as he could. Too many people had passed by in the corridor outside for it to be a coincidence anymore – they must suspect him by now. That meant he didn’t have much time. Sweat was running down his forehead in large drops and his shirt was completely soaked with it. Occasionally he had no choice but to pause periodically and wipe his face with a large towel in order to avoid dropping beads of moisture into the pile of dust he was working so hard to create.

He had turned the room’s temperature down twice now but continued to feel extremely warm. The letter opener slipped out of his hand and fell to the floor as he noticed that he had accidentally cut his hand with its gradually sharpening edge. Cursing, he quickly wrapped part of the towel around the blood that immediately began to spatter onto his desk.

The sudden, unmistakable sound of movement from behind caught him completely by surprise and he turned, shocked to see armed Brotherhood soldiers. There were two of them wearing dark black uniforms, and they each held pistols at the ready. Both men watched him silently and he slowly held up both hands cautiously – to avoid provoking them – before carefully moving to set the letter opener down on the desk.

“How the hell…?” he wondered out loud. Neither of the soldiers responded and he took a slow step forward, pointing at his chest with his bloody, towel-wrapped hand. “Hey, why are you guys holding weapons on me? I’m one of you – remember?”

“What do you think?” one of the soldiers asked curiously – his voice a stale, emotionless monotone. “Do you want this tripe kept alive?”

“Huh?” the spy asked in confusion. “What are you talking about?” He was totally puzzled, particularly because he had never heard a non-clone soldier speak without first being spoken to.

“He’s not talking to you…” said a voice from across the room. The Brotherhood spy whirled again and saw a tall, dark-haired man dressed in civilian clothing. The newcomer was smiling shrewdly at him as he leaned casually against the kitchen counter. “They follow my command.”

“Who are you?” the spy asked, his attention momentarily distracted from the soldiers. “How did you get in my quarters?”

“You should already know who I am,” the newcomer replied. “And you should have expected that I would stop by for a visit sooner or later. Once you commit blasphemy against God then you’ve begun walking down a path that leads you in only one direction. Punishment… severe punishment… becomes inevitable.”

“I don’t understand,” the spy protested, his face becoming red with anger. “Who are you?” he asked again.

“Maybe I am someone you know and maybe I am not,” his adversary stated simply. “Whoever I am doesn’t really matter though, does it? Whether you’ve murdered innocent people in the name of God or in the name of the Betrayer, the Lucifer, the Satan? Murder is still murder isn’t it?”

“I haven’t murdered anyone,” the spy hissed sharply.

“Oh perhaps not directly, but you did make certain the Brotherhood’s attack viruses were successfully passed on to the fighter and shuttle software back on the moon, and you’re planning violence right now. Look at the blood on your hands already. It’s kind of symbolic, isn’t it?”

“Shut up. I don’t believe you. Who are you?”

“Great blasphemy brings with it a long and lingering punishment,” the man said, walking toward him. “Kneel before me, and continue aiding me in my cause – I can spare you that particular destiny. All you need do is give up control of your soul. I will take it and keep it safe for you.”

“You are the one… as is written in scripture… the one who was cast out, aren’t you?” the spy asked in awe.

“That is correct. God tried to punish me, but instead I now rule a kingdom far greater than His. He presides over heaven, but I am the one who is left to command all that you have seen before you out here in the rest of the universe.”

“You are Lucifer, the Dark One, aren’t you?”

“I am many things and go by many names. That is one of them.”

“Scripture has records of you battling God, but you were exiled to rule the underworld, were you not?”

“I go where I will, and right now I am here… standing in front of someone whose people have killed billions. Your so-called ‘new society’ is literally afloat on a river of human blood and that interests me more than you can possibly imagine.”

“They deserved to die. They had the greatest planet in the universe and what did they do with it…? The most powerful nations used their resources to keep other countries trapped in a permanent lower class. Their governments also repeatedly found new reasons to murder those of us with less. We set out to reshape the globe… to begin again by rising from the ashes with the Triumvirate carefully controlling everything.”

“They had great cities and great farming communities,” the other responded. “And historically they have had conflicts, but they have always chosen a negotiation table as their final weapon. When – in their modern history – have they ever used nuclear weapons against each other in the manner that your people have? You have murdered billions and openly claim to do so in the name of God! If that is not blasphemy, then what is?”

“I personally had no control over that,” the spy protested, tears beginning to run from his eyes. “I was assigned only to infiltrate the Pathfinder project… like me, many of us had no idea what the end objective of our people was. If I had known what they were planning…”

“Billions!” the other shouted, placing his right hand on top of the spy’s head. “There in your home galaxy lays a world shattered by nuclear fire, their streets filled with the dead. And you dare say that your people serve God? Your entire Brotherhood serves only ME now!”

“Stop it, please stop,” the spy begged, falling to his knees. “These quarters are only semi-private and if someone else hears you…” The other kept his hand on the top of the man’s skull, and a wave of disorientation seemed to pass through his fingers and into the humanoid. “I didn’t know that genocide was our ultimate plan, I swear.”

“Of course you didn’t,” the stranger said, waving casually at the pair of soldiers still standing motionless on the far side of the room. “You simply helped with the plan to unleash these killers and your war machine on the humans as a peaceful gesture.” He grinned wickedly, and his hand on top of the spy’s head began glowing with scarlet light. “Your people are powerful and – like me – are not afraid to stand up and take what is theirs! I am here now. Join me and I will spare you the punishment that is coming. Defy me and you will suffer for all eternity! GIVE me your soul!”

“I don’t know about the rest of my people, but I am not a murderer,” the spy protested, noticing that the room was beginning to spin slowly around him. He felt dizzy and confused. “Not yet, at least.”

“Of course you’re not, you just spend all your spare time here in your quarters making bombs because you are the kindest and gentlest of creatures,” the other sneered.

“These people have killed mine! I have the right to take revenge!”

“Of course you do. Your people kill billions by surprise and this ship’s crew manages to marshal a defense and fight back. How dare they? I see your point completely, I do!” insisted the stranger. “You have the superior intelligence, the strength, and the ability to defeat them. Don’t get me wrong… I would kill them too! Your people can make use of the technology on this ship. You have the right to take it just as you had the right to conquer Earth!” The hand came up off the top of the spy’s head and clenched into a tight fist. “Unite with me Brother, you’ve already been helping me… not some weak and powerless God! Together we will kill everyone and everything on this ship and take it back to your people so they can further expand your new and superior civilization!”

“Stop, please stop…” the spy said again, sinking slowly into a tightly curled ball on the floor. “Please go away… I don’t want to kill anyone… I never did.” The room grew quiet and he lay there for quite some time, afraid to look up. When he finally did he could find no trace of the stranger or his two soldiers. Sweat and tears still rolled down his cheeks and he laid there on the floor, too afraid to get up and move around.

He was still not used to having all of these uncontrolled emotions and struggled once again to pull himself together. After calming himself down, he stood up slowly and went immediately to the restroom. The spy used its sink to hold and then splash cold water on his face before bandaging his wounded hand carefully. He pressed a cool, wet washcloth to his forehead to try and control the burning sensation inside his head. Perspiration continued to run down his face and he gasped in utter shock upon noticing his image in the mirror. The mysterious other had judged him, of that much he was sure. But he hadn’t expected the Dark One to have left his mark as well.

He stood there, staring at the change to his appearance in shock, wondering how he was ever going to walk amongst the crew of this ship again without being detected. They would be able to see him for who he was at a glance now, and his next duty shift in the hangar bay began right away the next morning. The spy cried softly as he realized that discovery was now unavoidable. It was then that he heard the two quick thumps on the wall separating his quarters from the next. It immediately became obvious to him that someone on the other side of the wall had overheard the entire conversation between him and the Devil.

True fear seized and held him.

*     * * *     *

“So how is Thomas doing?” Nori asked curiously. She leaned out of bed just long enough to set her champagne flute on the nightstand. Adam lay next to her, deep in thought, arms clasped tightly behind his head.

“The kid is doing fine,” Adam said. “I’ve been pleasantly surprised, especially since he had such a complete breakdown. Depression is one of those illnesses that will vary with each individual – I’m amazed that our Doctors can even treat it.”

“Can they?” wondered Nori. “If your patient dies before he can improve, that’s not a successful treatment in my book.”

“Thomas almost died because he deliberately disobeyed his Doctor,” Adam pointed out. “Stronger medications require a prescription for a reason… because they are unpredictable to a point and sometimes have side effects. That’s why they’re tested so thoroughly before the government approves them for use, and Thomas had no business trying to back himself off of them without speaking with the Doctor first.” He took a drink from his own glass. “Dr. Simmons feels terrible that she didn’t continue to check on him, but I had told her not to worry because I would do that.” He shrugged. “Thomas summed it up best himself… if you’ve been healthy all your life and never gone through this type of thing before it’s hard to realize what’s happening long enough to not make mistakes.”

“What if you had found him a few minutes later? It sounds like he was really close to…”

“I know.” Adam sternly sat quietly for a moment, remembering. “It’s weird. I was on duty working, and suddenly I had this… concern… that something was wrong.” He harrumphed loudly and shook his head. “I don’t know how to describe it, but somehow I just instinctively knew that Thomas was in danger.”

“How?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I was working and then I leaned back in my chair for a few minutes to take a short break, and… and all of a sudden I imagined him all curled up in a ball, helpless, on the floor of his room. Something I can’t explain warned me that he was in grave danger. I left my shift early to check on him… most people don’t even know about that part.” He sighed heavily and rubbed fatigue from his eyes. “The frightening thing is that I found him in the exact position I visualized. He was facing the opposite direction, but curled up in the same tight ball with the empty pill bottles lying next to him.”

“Good God Adam!”

“I know. That’s when I realized just how terrifying that nuclear attack was, how much pressure we’re all dealing with. I can’t think of anything else that would ever have driven a happy-go-lucky guy like Thomas to try and take his own life. He loves living that much!”

“Well at least he’s sleeping again,” Nori pointed out. “I know how cranky I get when I miss a night of shuteye, so I can just imagine what it’s like to go night after night without being able to sleep.”

“At least he’s talking to me now instead of compartmentalizing everything deep down inside,” decided Adam. “We visit every night for at least a half hour and never seem to run out of things to talk about.” He smiled at her. “Kind of like you and me, but in a brotherly way.”

“Being diagnosed with mental illness, even if it is just stress-related, would scare the hell out of me,” admitted Nori. “There’s such a stigma attached to psychiatry… people look at you differently, like you’re some kind of whacko.” She shook her head. “Except if you’re rich – then you’re just an eccentric.”

“When we were kids he really resented me for everything. I played sports, he read books. I dated girls, he read more books. I went out and socialized, he spent time at the library. It went on and on…” He paused, staring at the ceiling. “Then as adults we became better at interacting but he still looked up to me as some sort of impossible role model. No matter what I said or did he just felt like he was something less than his older brother.”

“It’s no small thing that he and Glen did with the CAS Drive,” she decided. “The things that I’ve seen from my cockpit the past few weeks – it’s absolutely unbelievable and something I never in my wildest dreams thought I would ever be able to go out and experience for myself.”

“No kidding,” responded Adam. “I’ve always given him grief because he specializes in software, but can you imagine? What type of intricate mind does it take to come up with the concept of creating something like that singularity, let alone the precise calculations needed to control and stabilize it in order to harness its energy?”

“We were all under pressure to get things done. Then that attack came and it became imperative that we get off of the moon and escape,” Nori observed, thinking back to those crucial moments that seemed to last forever then but now were already fading into the past. “Not knowing whether your parents are alive or dead… that must have weighed very heavily on both of you just like family is constantly on the minds of the rest of the crew.”

“Our parents are dead, I know they are.” Adam said fiercely. “They were in Minneapolis. That was one of the places early reports said took a direct nuclear hit.” He rolled on his side to face her. “I was so scared when I found Thomas unconscious,” he said. “He was so pale and near death it terrified me… but I called for the medics and deep down I somehow just knew that it wasn’t his time yet.”

“And now that incident is over and in your past, too,” she said, softly stroking his hair. He grabbed her hand and gently kissed it. “You still have part of your family with you and that’s more than most people on this ship can say.”

“We actually have a better relationship because of his problem,” said Adam. “It’s not something I’d want to happen, but since it has we’ve definitely found a way to rebond as brothers and turn it into something positive.” The grin on his face was so full of warmth and love that Nori found herself smiling back at him.

“That’s good, Adam,” she said, leaning over to kiss him.

“But life can be so strange sometimes,” he continued, looking deep into her eyes. “Tonight when I left Thomas’ quarters there was an elderly couple down the corridor a way. If I hadn’t known any better, I’d have sworn it was Mom and Dad smiling at us with admiration.” He paused, remembering. “The resemblance was so uncanny that I glanced back over my shoulder for a closer look. Of course, by then they were gone.”

“Whatever heaven that I’m sure they’ve found, they’re going to be even more pleased with you in about seven months,” Nori told him with an odd tone of voice, suddenly grinning mischievously. “Although I’m not sure the Captain will be when his air group commander applies for maternity leave.” She smiled at his absolute and complete silence for a full ten seconds.

“What?” Adam finally replied. “I know we decided to have a kid, but after the attack I was thinking that particular process might best be postponed for a while longer.”

“Too bad, you mighty giant of a man,” she joked. “You knocked me up!”

“That’s great!” he grinned. “Wait until I tell Thomas he’s going to be an Uncle!” His feet found hers under the covers and suddenly their upper bodies were tangled again too. He kissed her sincerely and was still smiling as she swung herself up into a sitting position on top of him. She guided his hands to her naked breasts and smirked at him.

“Better score while you still can,” she suggested seductively, licking her lips in anticipation.

*     * * *     *

Mary woke up later that night, certain she had heard something. After her shift ended she and Glen had cooked another delicious dinner together. They were both getting better and better at the cooking process and eating more than she usually did had left her particularly drowsy. Promptly at 10:00 p.m. she had turned out the lights and slept soundly until a series of voices had awakened her.

The clock next to her bed read 1:28 a.m. as she got up and searched the small apartment. She didn’t find anything and moved to the door, opening it and taking a quick peek outside to see if anyone had been passing by. The corridor was completely empty and silent except for the soft hum of the moving sidewalks that divided the center of the walkway.

“It’s okay, Mary, no one is going to hurt you,” someone said from behind her. She whirled in surprise and the door slid closed.

“Christopher, how did you get here?” she asked, staring in pure shock at her oldest brother. Behind him stood her other two siblings, Brian and Samantha. All three of them were smiling at her and she found the experience extremely profound. “Obviously I’m dreaming,” she said shyly, moving back toward her bed.

“No, you’re not,” Brian said, stepping forward and taking her hand. She wasn’t sure how to react and simply stood there quietly, absolutely stunned.

“We wanted to stop by and let you know that everything is going to be okay,” Christopher said, putting his arm around her shoulder. Samantha also approached and gave her a warm hug. “You’re going through a tough time right now but things will work out – they always do.”

“How did you get here?” she asked carefully. “I’m either dreaming or this is a hallucination of some sort, that’s for certain.”

“We came because you needed us,” Samantha stated. “We knew that never seeing us again would be devastating to you, so we’ve come to say goodbye and give you one last word of encouragement. You’re such a compassionate and generous person… we predict only great things waiting for you in the future.”

Mary deliberately lowered her head and walked past them. She opened the door to her quarters and entered the dimly lit corridor outside. The two walkways continued to hum, their speed considerably slower during the night time, each moving in a different direction away from her. She carefully found a break between the hand rails and stepped on the reinforced, stationary frame in their center and then across to the other side of the corridor. Her hand was shaking, but she managed to activate the nearest door chime and waited patiently, knowing it was very early in the morning to be out and wandering about.

“Who is it?” someone asked sleepily from the other side of the door.

“It’s Mary from across the hall,” she said. “I’m sorry to disturb you but I have a bit of an emergency this morning.”

The door in front of her slid open and she stood face to face with Kari Hansen, Dr. Markham’s administrative assistant from the Observatory. Kari was dressed in her nightwear and also looked very sleepy and disoriented. “What’s the matter, Mary?” she asked carefully.

“Could you come with me please?” Mary asked. “I heard someone in my quarters and I’m not sure yet just what’s going on.”

“Okay,” Kari replied and they both proceeded to cross the moving sidewalks to Mary’s side of the walkway. Mary opened the door to her quarters and activated the lights inside. She entered the room and carefully looked around, noting quickly that her brothers and sister were nowhere to be found. Curious, Kari followed her inside, also surveying the spacious apartment.

“Do you see anyone in here?” Mary asked, walking into the kitchen area.

“No,” Kari replied cautiously, glancing from the living area to the bedroom. “Are you sure you heard a person, or could it have been some kind of noise that woke you up?”

“Truthfully, I have no idea what it was,” Mary said, frowning. “But someone definitely woke me up – that’s for certain.” She thanked Kari for coming and sent her back to her room, then sat down on the bed and waited quietly. Fifteen minutes later she had still heard nothing and cautiously laid down and fell back asleep. She still suspected she might have been dreaming, but was very tired and decided that solving the mystery would have to wait until morning.

She left the blankets crumpled at the foot of the bed, feeling so unusually warm that she was actually sweating.

12: XI: Scaredy Cat

THE PATHFINDER PROJECT

Chapter XI: Scaredy Cat

Promptly at 6:30 a.m. the next morning Captain Kaufield entered the Medical Ward as requested. He found Dr. Simmons in one of the examination rooms visiting with Mary. Dennis put on his best smile as he walked through the door. “Good morning ladies,” he said charmingly, winking at Mary. “Aren’t you on duty in a few minutes, Lt. Hastings?”

“Yes,” she replied, smirking a bit at his early morning enthusiasm.

“Mary is one of a dozen people in the past couple of days to complain to me about hallucinations,” Karen said rather straightforwardly, deciding not to waste any time with the normal pleasantries. “I ran a couple of tests on her and they all came back negative,” she continued, holding up Mary’s left arm. “Then we noticed these.” She pointed to a series of a dozen or so dark red blotches on the underside of the Lieutenant’s arm, just below the elbow.

“Now what in the hell would those be?” Dennis asked curiously.

“I don’t know… yet,” admitted Karen, frustrated. “The other people who reported seeing abnormal things also had these spots, mostly on their hands and arms” she confirmed. “And the level of infection so far seems to be at its highest down below… on passenger deck four.”

Dennis frowned deeply. “We’ve got a contamination breach,” he said, becoming concerned. “Something unknown got above the hangar bay quarantines and into the ship.” He quickly tapped a series of numbers into the nearest Comm-link. “Kaufield to Mathison, please respond.” There was a short pause, and Dennis idly wondered if the farming and ranching specialist was even out of bed yet.

“This is Mathison, what can I do for you, sir?”

“Jeff, I hate to bother you this early in the morning but some of our people are showing odd symptoms that preliminarily indicate some sort of unknown biological agent has come aboard the Pathfinder. It’s quite probable that we have some kind of contamination leak on the passenger decks. Please engage a quarantine lock on the Garden and Livestock wings until further notice.” He paused, mentally reviewing the options one more time. “Most of the passengers may complain a bit when they can’t go sightseeing as usual, but we can’t take any chances.”

“Acknowledged,” came the quick reply.

“I’ll have Adam check in with you later when we know more,” Dennis decided. He closed down the link, noting that Karen was already shaking her head.

“Whatever it is it’s all over the ship by now,” she said firmly. “It’s apparently something that’s both airborne and passed along by touch. Since historically only a small percentage of the people who actually have symptoms will actually contact me to ask questions, I think we’ve already got a reasonable-sized problem on our hands.”

“Particularly when a lot of those people will be handling duty shifts in key positions,” Dennis commented. “Do you have any idea where it came from?”

She nodded in response. “We’re set up to monitor these types of things so it’s a piece of cake to track down,” she told him, pointing to two nearby microscopes. Dennis glanced into the view finder of the first one and closely studied a series of enlarged cell samples.

“The long reddish stringy things that are poking into the cells are the cause of the problem, I take it,” he said.

“That’s right,” said Karen. “You’re looking at a skin sample I took from Mary.” She motioned to the second microscope and Dennis moved slightly to take a look at its sample. This time he was looking at a magnified view of a bunch of multi-sized dark particles. Mixed among them were the same long ‘stringy things’.

“And this would be…?” he wondered.

“That is a sample I took from one of the air filters on deck four,” she said. “All of the filters we use vary in density at predetermined points in our ventilation system so that each catches different types of airborne debris. This is part of one of the more finely weaved sets that are currently in use.”

“What are those dark particles?” Mary asked after taking a quick look into both microscopes.

In reply, Karen walked over to the sink next to the examination table and picked up a large, porous piece of foam.

“This is part of one of the filters we replaced on deck four,” she said, holding it up for emphasis. She moved a cigarette lighter under it and – as soon as she lit the flame – the filter quickly disappeared in a cloud of fire. A large popping sound and a cloud of black smoke temporarily filled the room. An overhead fire alarm began clanging but Karen quickly shut it off from a work station mounted on her work table next to the microscopes. “That is supposed to be a fire proof filter,” she pointed out informatively.

“That’s dust… mineral dust from fuel ore,” Dennis growled, shaking his head. He walked over to the Comm-link and tapped in a different number this time.

“This is Colonel Murray Neeland,” was the quick response from its speaker. “What can I do for you, Captain Kaufield?”

“Get your marines out of bed, Colonel,” Dennis ordered. “We’ve got a bomb maker on the ship, quite probably located on deck four.”

“We’re on our way,” Neeland replied resolutely.

*     * * *     *

Less than an hour later Dennis sat patiently waiting in the office area that connected to the Pathfinder’s brig. The ship didn’t have a large prisoner control system, but it did have a standard jail. He was nursing the remnants of his morning cup of coffee when Colonel Neeland walked in, closely followed by two marines and a handcuffed civilian. The marines kicked the prisoner’s legs out from under him and dropped him sharply onto his knees.

“You can’t legally do this!” the man insisted, trying to stand up. The marines placed the butts of their rifles on his shoulders and forced him back down. “You had no right to enter my quarters without a warrant… I want to see a lawyer!”

“His name is Patrick Warren, part of your hangar crew,” Neeland said, tossing the man’s security tag on the desk in front of Kaufield. “Whether he’s a Brotherhood lover or not is a question that I can’t answer right now.” He looked down at Warren and said with unconcealed hostility, “but I’m looking forward to the chance to find out for you, Captain.”

Kaufield casually gave Patrick the once over. He was a tall, average-looking Caucasian fellow with straight blonde hair. There was just a trace of sandy brown mixed in with the blonde. What was unusual – and immediately obvious – were the darkening reddish-blue blotches on both of his cheeks. Murray angrily grabbed the man’s jaw and barked an order. Patrick immediately opened his mouth in response. Additional darker bruises were readily visible on his tongue and the insides of his cheeks. There were also spots running along the length of both of his arms and neck as well, but it was apparent even without a doctor that his face was the most seriously infected part of his body and in need of immediate treatment.

“Well, I think it’s obvious how he got the fuel ore back to his quarters,” Kaufield commented wryly. “You would be our undercover Brotherhood follower, I take it?”

“Brotherhood?” Warren said suspiciously. “What are you talking about? I’m a loyal hangar bay worker… the Brotherhood is a merciless organization that destroyed our planet.”

“Really,” Colonel Neeland commented. “Your role as a Brotherhood spy would explain how a panicking weasel like you can pick up one of my marines and physically throw him from your living room into your kitchen.” Warren looked down at the floor and said nothing.

“What do your Brotherhood friends want you to accomplish on the Pathfinder?” Kaufield asked, slowly rising to his feet. “Other than blowing up things, that is.”

Warren’s face reddened and he took a couple of panicked breaths. “I swear I didn’t know what they were going to do,” he said, sobbing uncontrollably. “I didn’t know they were going to try and kill everyone Earth. Good God, I didn’t.”

Kaufield’s right cross caught him by surprise and laid Warren flat out on his back. Gasping in pain and surprise he laid there for a moment before scrambling back to his feet. The two marines behind him forced him back to his knees. Blood was trickling from his nose and mouth as the Captain grabbed him firmly by the collar of his shirt.

“That was for trying to build a bomb on my ship,” he said fiercely. “If you’d like, I’ll administer the penalty for deliberately violating quarantine protocol next, and after that we can proceed directly to the part where we exact penance for what your people did to mine!”

“No, please… that won’t be necessary,” Warren decided. “I was assigned to infiltrate your project and find out as much as I could about the new CAS Drive. I didn’t know the attack on Earth was coming… but when you killed so many of my people during the encounter with the warship, I considered making the bomb as part of my plan for revenge.”

“Considered?” Colonel Neeland commented, holding up a paper envelope filled with dark black mineral dust. “You had a really serious bomb-making factory set up there in your quarters.”

“Last night… I know you won’t believe me…” Warren said, trying to talk between fits of crying. “I had a vision… an evil vision and decided not to use the explosive.” Tears were streaming down his red-spotted cheeks and he looked Kaufield directly in the eyes. “The Devil himself marked me – look at what the evil one did to me! I’ve been physically labeled a killer before I even committed the act. Everywhere I go…” Again a fit of sobbing overtook him, and he put his head in his hands and continued crying.

“You may not have actually killed anyone yourself yet but your organization as a whole has certainly bloodied its hands,” Dennis noted angrily. “Not to mention the fact that you’ve hidden your true identity all this time while conducting covert espionage for the Brotherhood. Then there’s this fuel ore incident, which you knowingly broke our quarantine procedures to accomplish… God only knows what.” Dennis shook his head furiously and then threw Warren’s security pass at him. “I don’t think I can emphasize that part enough – you put the entire crew at risk of infection by an unknown pathogen! We haven’t needed a court system yet on the Pathfinder but I’m sure that we can get the process going as soon as you want your lawyer.” He drew back his fist again and Warren ducked away. “That is, if we can find a lawyer to defend you whose family hasn’t been killed by your buddies back home. I think there will be plenty of bias present during a trial no matter how many precautions we take. The actions of your Brotherhood have made certain of that.”

Patrick Warren sobbed uncontrollably for a few minutes and then struggled to gain control of his crying. He took a couple of deep breaths and glanced over at Colonel Neeland before promptly breaking down into tears again. “Just kill me and get it over with, will you?” he begged. “I never truly knew who I was, but ever since this ship left our home so far behind something is different. It’s agony being away from home, and if I can’t go back then just kill me and be done with it.”

“How many other Brotherhood agents are on board the Pathfinder?” Neeland asked.

“None… this was a top-secret project. Do you know how long it took them just to get me assigned to your hangar crew?” Warren asked. There was a long pause as Dennis thought things over, throughout which Patrick continued to cry uncontrollably while still on his knees in front of Colonel Neeland’s marines. Kaufield sat back down at the desk and casually put his feet up.

“This is what you’re going to do for us…” the Captain said slowly. “You’re going to the Medical Ward, where Dr. Simmons and her colleagues are going to test you, study you, and do whatever the hell else they need to in order to find a cure for this illness your stupidity has spread amongst the crew.” His gaze caught and controlled the fear growing in Warren’s eyes. “After that you’re coming back here to jail. You will, as needed, continue to cooperate with the Medical team for as long as they deem necessary so that we can learn all we need to regarding the genetic enhancements that have been applied to your people.”

“Supposing I refuse your offer,” Warren objected. “I do have rights under your government’s laws, even if I was born outside the Continental U.S. My ancestry is Eastern European, but I have citizenship status…”

“Your friends destroyed your rights when they started their war and blew up the Earth!” Kaufield shouted, pulling his feet down sharply. His expression contorted with barely controlled rage. “We’ve been out here looking for quite some time now, and we still haven’t found anything close to matching it. You miss home? Well then, why the devil did this freaking Brotherhood destroy it?”

“I have the right to refuse to participate in medical experimentation,” persisted Warren.

“Yes you do, in which case I’m prepared to drop all charges against you,” Kaufield snapped back at him.

“Drop… all charges? I don’t understand…” Warren said, confused. He glanced apprehensively toward Murray.

“That’s right, Patrick. If you don’t cooperate with our medical team I’m going to drop the charges against you and have you reassigned to work among the civilian members of the crew.” He pointed at the armed marines standing behind them. “Without the military protection, of course. We need them to keep the key areas of the ship secure from people like you.” The Captain paused again, smiling as he let Warren think the matter over. “I wonder how all those civilians will treat you when they find out who you are and why you’re here. I seriously doubt they’ll grant your wish and kill you right away. Maybe eventually, after they’re done with you…”

“I’ll cooperate,” Warren decided suddenly, slowly getting to his feet. “Damn you, I’ll cooperate…”

Kaufield waved the marines toward the other room. “Please lock up our guest, Colonel,” he said firmly. “I’ll let Dr. Simmons know he’s ready for testing.”

*     * * *     *

Adam was not at all surprised to find the hatchways leading to both the Garden and Livestock wings tightly closed. Additionally, an extra pair of marines had been assigned to guard each of the four entrances. He walked past the first two doorways that led into the Garden wing and entered the security and maintenance offices located between the agricultural wings.

A series of security monitors lined most of the walls, allowing guards on duty to target and watch various sections or activities taking place within the two wings. There were also a series of workstations that carefully – and constantly – monitored the temperature, humidity, and other conditions on the two flat surfaces of each wing.

“Adam Roh,” Jeff Mathison said cheerfully, waving off a group of three people that he had been talking to. “It’s nice to see you made it up here, because our maintenance technicians are trying to figure out just what we’re going to do with you.”

“Huh?” Adam said, finding himself a bit surprised. “The Captain mentioned that you might need some assistance changing filters and making adjustments to the ventilation equipment. That’s why I’m here.”

“Really,” Jeff said mischievously, walking over to one of the security monitors. “Perhaps you can start by explaining this…” He used a laptop setting on one of the tables to switch the image and a visual of one of the ceilings in the Garden wing flashed into view. It showed a close-up of part of the ceiling – where about eighteen red apples floated harmlessly in the gravity void that separated the first ten inches or so below the ceiling from the normal conditions below.

“Wow,” Adam said proudly. “That looks pretty darn cool, I would have to say.”

“One of the technicians told me you usually float an apple once in a while to let them know you’ve been by. Have you decided that more is better, for some reason?”

“Actually, I can explain that…” Adam said, feeling a slight flush of embarrassment. “You see, I sort of… well, I kind of taught the Captain’s son to do that – you know, just to impress him a little.”

“The villain admits his crime,” grinned Jeff. “We caught the whole thing on tape. The teacher from one of the schools brought a bunch of the kids by on a field trip yesterday afternoon,” he said, unable to stop himself from chuckling. “The minute they passed through the apple grove this happened.”

He switched the monitor’s image again and Adam watched a bunch of giggling kids first pick and then throw a series of apples as high as they could. Some of them came back down and landed in the general area but most of them stuck in the gravity void. The teacher protested futilely through the whole thing and Adam laughed out loud, watching the expression on her face as she looked upward and saw the floating fruit for herself. A look of determination crossed her face and she finally got everyone settled down and moving forward again.

“I’ll be careful what I teach the kid from now on,” Adam said sheepishly, holding up his hands. “You’ve got to admit, it is pretty funny!” He held up the tool kit that he had brought with him. “The Captain sent me up here to help you beef up the filtering systems, at least temporarily.”

“There’s a maintenance team waiting back out into the corridor and off to the left,” Jeff said. “They’ve already been throwing around some ideas, but wanted to wait until they could discuss with you what is possible without putting unnecessary strain on the equipment.”

“I’m on my way,” Adam said, heading back the way he had come. He stopped abruptly and turned back to Mathison. “Speaking of the Captain’s son,” he said, suddenly getting an idea. “I’d like to bring him back up here once we’re finished so he can help me with another project I’m working on. I know you’re under quarantine and everything but you have to send suited technicians into the wings anyway for maintenance on the equipment inside, so my idea shouldn’t be a major problem.”

“What do you have in mind?” Jeff asked, his curiosity obvious.

Adam smiled and promptly told him.

Thomas had decided to watch the Pathfinder’s latest transit from the observation windows in one of the restaurants on deck one. Although the CAS transits between far away points were virtually instantaneous, this one had been worth making the trip for. Despite the fact that there was an unknown biological agent on board, the Captain had discussed the situation with the ship’s medical teams. No one had seen any need to retrace their steps just yet… they had plenty of samples of the mysterious bacterial agent and were already working hard to find a cure.

Thus Dr. Markham got her way again and – minutes ago – the ship had moved in close to one of the smaller galaxies they had charted over the past few days. It was really quite impressive to be sitting next to one of the large windows and its view of the dark exterior void, then suddenly see the PTP flash and – pow – just like that a window full of stars again. They were too close for him to distinguish any of the galaxy’s unique details… he couldn’t see spiral arms or anything like that. But it was very impressive just the same.

Afterwards he wandered slowly back through the corridor in the general direction of his quarters, sipping the leftover iced coffee in his cup through a straw. He noted that the people on duty were flashing quickly by on the moving sidewalks, while off duty civilians like him took their time and were walking about normally on the edges of the corridor. He hadn’t yet chosen to stop by one of the exercise rooms aboard ship, mainly because so far he was having a lot of fun just spending so much quiet time alone.

He reached the door to his quarters and slid his card key into the entrance slot. The door quietly opened and Thomas entered, moving directly into the kitchen and dumping the leftover ice from his cup into the sink. He headed into the living room and sat down in his easy chair, reaching to his left until he found the light switch. The room lit up brightly and he found himself staring at a tiny black kitten with white spots on its chest and tummy. The kitten just sat there in the middle of his floor for a moment with its bright yellow eyes and looked right back up at him.

“Mew, mew, mew…” it said, rolling cutely on its side. It stretched, reaching out with its front paws, then pulled one paw quickly back and began licking it scrupulously.

“Well hello,” Thomas said cheerfully, rising to his feet and reaching out a finger. “Where did you come from, little fellow?” he asked. The kitten responded by swatting playfully at his finger and he quickly pulled it back hoping no blood had been drawn. “Talk about sharp little kitty claws…” he said, putting the finger in his mouth and sucking on it. It was right about then that he heard the little boy giggling from behind the room’s other recliner.

“What are you up to, Joseph Kaufield?” he asked. The boy stood up, still laughing and he was astonished to see Adam hiding behind the chair with him. “Oh, I see…” he said smugly. “This is a two-person operation.”

“That’s right,” Joseph said proudly. “This is your new cat George. We brought a litter box, some food, and all the other stuff you’re going to need.”

“George, huh?” grinned Thomas. “You named him after…”

“We just decided to call him George. You get to keep him and hug him. And you’ll love it… he’s really cool.”

“Be sure and keep fresh water out for him at all times,” Adam suggested. “The vet we got him from said cats absolutely love drinking fresh water. They’re very finicky if it sits out too long.”

“They need water because they lick themselves so much,” giggled Joseph.

Thomas couldn’t help himself. He picked the little kitten up and held it gently, looking into its yellow eyes. The baby cat began purring and rubbing its chin against his hand, then began licking him with its sand-papery tongue. “Hello George, how are you?” he said, reaching around with his other hand to scratch the kitten behind its ears. It purred more quickly and pushed its head into his hand, prompting him to continue the scratching. Thomas suddenly got a puzzled look on his face and glanced at his brother. “How did you swing this with the environmental people?” he asked. “From what I’ve heard, there’s an unknown bacteria floating around.”

“That’s exactly why we want people to start keeping pets in the passenger areas on the ship,” said Adam. “Anything really dangerous that spreads into the civilian quarters should normally affect the animals first.” He grinned at his brother. “The added bonus, we decided, is that lots of the people who are living alone – primarily you, for instance – need a friend for company.”

“You can’t have a dog, though…” said Joseph disappointedly. “If you want to see the dogs, you have to go to the Livestock wing and play with them there.”

“Dogs would have to be pretty well trained to live in the passenger section,” Thomas mused. He held the little kitten close to his body and it curled up in his arm, purring away. “Thanks very much, you guys!”

“Have you experienced any of the hallucinations yet?” Adam asked curiously.

“No, oddly enough,” said Thomas. “For the past couple of weeks I was having all kinds of whacko visions, but ever since they put me on my new prescription there’s been absolutely nothing. It’s kind of disappointing, actually. I heard that some of the passengers have been taking some pretty memorable trips.”

“I saw Mom and Dad last night right before I fell asleep,” commented Adam idly. “Dr. Simmons thinks that the bacteria affects and enhances the subconscious area of our brains, so when we’re at rest and not keeping mentally active the hallucinations begin to assert themselves.” He reached out a finger and gently stroked the purring kitten sitting in the crook of his brother’s arm. “That’s very good from the Captain’s human resource perspective. We’ve had very few incidents reported from people on duty, since they’re naturally pretty focused on their work.”

“Did Mom and Dad have anything important to say?” Thomas asked.

“Yeah, they told me to take good care of you,” grinned Adam. “How about those apples?” He watched Joseph twitch at the mention of the word ‘apples’ with more than a little satisfaction.

“Where did the bacteria come from?” wondered Joseph. He might be only twelve years old, but the kid knew when to try his best to quickly change the subject.

“We don’t know. Your Dad doesn’t want to say anything officially yet. But the word around the ship is that we caught an undercover agent working for the Brotherhood. There were marines searching every cabin on deck four this morning.”

“Whoa,” replied Thomas. “That must have been upsetting to some of the folks.” He invited his unexpected pair of guests to sit down while he lay down on his couch. He settled back comfortably and carefully set George on his chest. The little kitten immediately began poking him with its front paws until it found a comfortable spot, then curled up and went right to sleep.

“You have to stay there now until George wakes up,” Joseph said, pointing. “You can’t get up and disturb the kitty – it’s a Pathfinder rule!”

“Really,” Thomas said, looking at the curled up ball of fur sleeping on top of him. “What if I have to use the restroom or something?”

“Too bad so sad,” Joseph replied, shaking his head back and forth repeatedly. “The kitten needs his sleep.”

They visited for a while longer, with Adam and Joseph pointing to and explaining the use of the various pieces of cat gear they had brought with them. Most of the items were toys of one sort or another, but there was also a small book on feline care and behavior that had been donated by one of the veterinarians. Eventually Adam decided it was time to take the Captain’s son home and they left, but he promised to return again the next day as usual to see how his brother was getting along.

“Thank you very much, guys,” Thomas said softly to himself as they left. He watched the door to his quarters slide shut and then put his right hand on top of the sleeping kitten. It snuggled up against his palm, opened its eyes, yawned widely and began stretching out its paws. Thomas carefully watched the splayed claws catch and pull on the fabric of his shirt and commented, “Those front claws are coming out as soon as you’re six weeks old, little friend. I’ve only got so much blood to give.”

*     * * *     *

Karen was staring at an image of the strange new bacteria on her computer screen when Kaufield joined her. He had just finished his duty shift for the evening and sat down next to her, folded his hands and lowered his chin onto them.

“How are things coming, Doc?” he asked.

“We lucked out, Captain sir,” she replied. “The planetoid this came from had a minimal atmosphere – I checked with the shuttle crew. There wasn’t a lot of oxygen and nitrogen around but enough was present for these little beasties to survive.”

“How big of a threat are we looking at?”

“Fortunately for us, not much of one.” She switched the computer to standby mode and swiveled in her seat to face him. “Jeff’s botany team can’t even tell it’s here without us showing them what to look for – most of the animals and all of the plant life are almost totally unaffected. Except for the mammals, of course…”

“Ahh,” Kaufield responded carefully. “Anything with higher brain functions and a subconscious capable of producing dream activity is vulnerable.”

“That’s right,” Dr. Simmons confirmed. “And anything with the ability to dream normally has a reasonably developed immune system.” She smiled at him, overwhelmed with relief. “It’s like catching a cold that makes you hallucinate. Instead of a stuffed up nose, you get to see all of the people and things your subconscious chooses.”

“Colds have a habit of… recurring from time to time,” Kaufield pointed out. “Ongoing, unpredictable hallucinations among the crew would be bad, Doctor.”

“I can help you there, too,” said Karen confidently. “Including Thomas Roh I’ve treated a total of ten members of the crew for stress-related issues over the past couple of weeks. Seven of them are taking an anti-depressant that contains a new, experimental chemical we call Mirzion and not one of them has had any hallucinations even though the bacteria is present in their systems.”

“So you’ve got a cure already,” Dennis grinned.

“Not a cure,” she corrected, “But a chemical that appears to nullify the hallucination symptoms anyway. We can administer it to everyone right away and then give them a booster every ten years by including it with their tetanus shot.”

“I’ll take that solution,” Kaufield decided, standing up. “I hope the folks in the Lab wing can manufacture this ‘Mirzion’ of yours as a stand-alone chemical without the anti-depressant.” He chuckled under his breath.

Karen smirked. “What’s the matter, Captain?” she asked playfully. “Don’t you want a happy, laughing crew?”

“Not that happy,” grinned Kaufield. “So I take it this whatever-you-call-it is already part of the ship’s bio-system?”

“That’s right,” she said. “The situation is very similar to the safeguard procedures we used back in the Sol-system… protocols space colonies use to keep infected material at one site from damaging the eco-system of another.” She reactivated her computer screen and pointed at the bacteria. “No matter how hard you try, something inevitably slips through now and then. You do the best you can, but in the end it’s still an imperfect process.” She sighed, slightly depressed. “I had a sister working at a site located on one of Jupiter’s moons. I miss visiting with her via the daily Comm-traffic.”

“I understand completely Doctor. However, my concern was to bring the situation under control. If I hear you correctly, then I’m a happy Captain,” concluded Dennis. “How is our Brotherhood guest doing?”

“Not well. He had sores resulting from prolonged, direct exposure to those mineral rocks all over the inside of his mouth and tongue. All of the lesions our people have will eventually heal, but for him it’s going to be a painful process that will take a few extra days. He seems much more susceptible to it for some reason.”

“Perhaps it’s all those genetic enhancements that give him superior strength.”

The Doctor chuckled wryly. “As soon as the nurses finish cleaning out all of the pus and fluid from the sores in his mouth I’m planning to give him something for the pain.”

“Not tonight you don’t,” Kaufield said, shaking his head. He completely ignored the expression on Karen’s face.

“Captain…”

“Not tonight!” shouted Dennis angrily. “I want that SOB to lie there all night and think about what he tried to do to us. It certainly won’t kill him to spend one night with discomfort… you know, like the sleepless nights he and his people put Thomas and all the others through. Who knows, an uncomfortable experience like that might actually penetrate this so-called ‘superior’ brain of his and change his mind the next time he thinks about building explosive devices on my ship!” He walked over to the door and turned back. “You can give him something tomorrow at 0800. Not before… and that’s a direct order, Doctor.”

“I guess it’s not a good night to be a spy on this ship,” Karen commented as she watched him stomp angrily out of the Medical Ward.

13: XII: Black Tie Affair

THE PATHFINDER PROJECT

Chapter XII: Black Tie Affair

Thomas Roh sat watching the stars from his seat in the Observatory wing, completely stunned. Not that it wasn’t really great to see stars again, mind you… that part he was quite comfortable with. However, in the three weeks that had elapsed since Dr. Simmons brought the unknown bacterial infection under control, the Pathfinder had steadily explored outward from its home galaxy. And outward further. And then further outward beyond even that.

They were currently situated somewhere in the midst of the Centaurus super-cluster. Distance measurements from home base were almost impossible now, if not for the carefully plotted waypoints they had established along the way. When all calculations were said and done, the Pathfinder had journeyed more than 1.5 billion light years from its original Milky Way starting point.

“That’s over a hundred and fifty million light years for each pound George has grown!” he pointed out to Dr. Markham as she walked by. “And thirty two million light years for each day that we’ve been in space. For God’s sake how long can this go on? There’s only so much area in our universe, you know.”

“That’s why it’s called the known universe,” said Julie proudly. “Now that your team has got the train moving, it’s our job to determine just how much area there is in the unknown.”

“This is absolutely profound,” said Thomas. “For crying out loud, there are a lot of people on this ship – and I happen to be one of them – that really believe in the concept of Intelligent Design. I hope you’re not going to try and find a scientific explanation for everything we discover out here. You’ll blow our faith and we’ll have nothing left to spiritually comfort us!” He looked out the window again. “After all, everyone knows the universe is filled with a colossal number of galaxies – each containing an unbelievable star count – so why do you have to go and try and map it all, anyway? Aren’t men supposed to be the over-aggressive, OCD type?”

Since she was standing, Julie leaned her head down next to Thomas and whispered softly in his ear, “Centaurus is not just a galaxy or just a star cluster. It’s a super-cluster containing hundreds – perhaps even thousands – of smaller galaxies, depending upon how and where we decide to draw our perimeter lines.”

“Oh, now I understand,” Thomas acknowledged dryly. “It’s a super-cluster. Thank you for pointing that out Doctor. Now this journey to the edge of infinity makes perfect sense.”

Julie sat down at her desk and began typing rapidly on the keyboard of her laptop. “Why are you here again?” she asked, resting one of the ear tips from her glasses against her lower lip. “Did the Captain suddenly decide I need a babysitter? Did he think that someone constantly playing Devil’s Advocate would lighten my mood? Aren’t there literally a dozen other places on this ship where you could be right now?”

“I’m on a survey assignment to become more familiar with your Observatory,” said Thomas proudly. “Since the CAS Drive is functioning like a finely tuned machine the Captain wants me to be ready to assist your staff with software adjustments to the telescope equipment as we move farther and farther from home.” He grinned widely. “That means you better get used to seeing more of me!”

“If your goal is to survey the Observatory then why don’t you start looking at our equipment and stop stargazing out the windows for God’s sake?”

“I’ll get to that,” Thomas decided, “After I finish my study of this phenomenally awesome view that you’ve found for us.”

“The Captain wanted me to locate something appropriate for tonight’s Fourth of July celebration,” she said absently, carefully studying the screen on her laptop. “So I killed two birds with one stone. While you and the civilians are partying tonight, we here in the Observatory plan to busy ourselves with the observing process.” She quickly looked him up and down. “Speaking of the celebration, do you have a date yet?”

“Uh, I don’t know if that’s such a good idea…” Thomas said shyly. “I don’t normally handle social situations with females very well. And since I’m also still under Doctor’s orders to take things easy, I was just planning on spending the evening in my quarters with George…” He stopped in mid-sentence as Kari walked up and handed Julie a handful of computer disks.

The first thing that captivated him was her short dark hair, then her eyes. Thomas drank in the pure sight of the cute young administrative assistant and she smiled warmly back at him. The mere sight of her smile instantly activated every male-response trigger in his body at once. His normally focused thinking quickly began to move to a high speed blur. His mouth opened and he tried desperately to convince his brain to activate his vocal cords. “Hi… uhm… hullo,” he barely managed.

“Kari.” She said, smiling again.

Thomas struggled to avoid falling out of his seat. “Hello Kari,” he said finally. A part of his subconscious was screaming for him not to say anything further to her, so he impulsively asked the question leaping to the front of his mind as fast as he could before that part of him had a chance to win. “Kari, do you by any chance have plans for the Fourth of July celebration, yet?”

“Why no I don’t actually,” she said, grinning in sheer delight at his obvious discomfort and the war he was fighting with his shyness. “I might drop by the Garden wing for a bit though, just to see how things are going. I’ve been working all morning already. By evening I’ll have put in plenty of time so I’ll almost certainly be ready for a break. Maybe I’ll see you there.”

“Save me a dance, will you please?” he asked, again saying the sentence as fast as he could before the fear in him had a chance to prevail. He hoped that it didn’t sound like he was begging, but as a human male he was fully prepared to do so if necessary.

“I most certainly will, Thomas Roh,” she said cheerfully before idly wandering back to her desk. He watched her attractive, slim figure recede in absolute male awe and then noticed Julie was studying him just as carefully.

“Okay, Dr. Markham perhaps you’re right,” he said, trying desperately to clear his fogged head. “I think that the rest of my survey can wait.”

“You pounce and then you run!” Julie replied, laughing so hard her shoulders were shaking, “You men are all the same… every last one of you!”

“Well, no offense Doctor, but dating is an imperfect process,” Thomas commented, leaning one arm against her desk. He whispered into her ear, “It can be even more intimidating when trying to initiate a romantic encounter while in the presence of an older woman.”

Astonishingly, he nearly made it out the hatchway before she caught him.

*     * * *     *

Adam fumbled around in Thomas’ kitchen, searching desperately for the dry kibble he needed to feed George. The black and white kitten, now about ten pounds strong, was watching him suspiciously from the living room. Every now and then Adam would look up in frustration and George would catch his eye and respond with a loud “Meow!”

“I know – trust me – I’m looking for your damn food, cat!” Adam said. “And this is the last time I waste part of my day off stopping by to feed you, that’s for sure!” Behind him Nori laughed loudly while watching him continue to hunt for the food. She carefully picked up George’s other bowl and washed it out in the sink before replacing its contents with fresh water.

“Meow,” George yowled again, flopping over on his side to watch Adam from a more comfortable position. His long black tail whipped back and forth, signaling his curiosity.

“Where is Thomas, anyway?” Nori asked. “Has he been returned to duty?”

“On a limited basis,” Adam informed her, pulling a box of dry cat kibble out from a cabinet beneath the sink. “Aha! We’ve found the cat food,” he grinned, carefully refilling the cat’s bowl. “He’s going to start coming to the Council meetings and also work part-time in the Observatory. The Captain feels that’s enough for now.”

“Council meetings, huh,” she replied. “Word is the Brotherhood spy was sentenced today… what was his name – Warren?” She paused but couldn’t resist asking. “Did you decide to toss him out an airlock?”

“He’s going to live,” said Adam firmly. “We discussed it for quite a while, but death is always the easy way to deal with situations like that.” He put the box of cat food back into its cabinet and shut the door. “His face has permanent scarring from the illness he recklessly brought on board so he’s going to have to live with that, first of all. We also decided to assign him to work in one of the restaurants on deck four.”

“Is he going to be safe there?” queried Nori inquisitively. “Even if he himself isn’t guilty of murder, I’m sure he’s going to take a lot of heat for spying on our ship and for what his people did to ours back on Earth. That hangar four crew is a tough crowd, especially when they’ve been drinking the ‘stuff they don’t have on board’.”

“He more than earned exposure to a little personal danger, don’t you think?” responded Adam. “Warren has agreed to continue to cooperate with Dr. Simmons and her efforts to learn more about his unique… biology. The Captain has ordered her to create a high-level security file to document everything she finds out. That’s all I can tell you for now, the rest is considered classified by the Captain.”

“I can always find out what I need to know by withholding sex,” she told him, stepping up behind him and wrapping her arms around his stomach.

“That weapon is rapidly vacating your arsenal for the time being, woman,” grinned Adam, turning to face her and patting her rapidly growing tummy. “Seriously though, what can our Brotherhood spy do?” he asked. “As long as he works in the restaurant, right in front of God and everybody, the Captain has authorized a marine guard to protect him. The rest of the time he’s confined to his quarters, which are thoroughly searched twice a week the same as if he was in a prison cell.”

“Sooner or later, someone’s going to take a swing at him,” predicted Nori. “I’ve been tempted to myself, considering what he was planning to do to our ship.”

“From a security standpoint, we need to find out who the hotheads and trouble makers are,” said Adam. “So he’s kind of doubling as a flash point. If anyone attacks him, they’ll be prosecuted the same as they would be if they assaulted anyone else.”

“You keep saying him. Are you even sure it is a he?” she wondered. “I’ve heard these Brotherhood people have had lots of… work done.”

“The Doctor is pretty certain,” he replied. “She says he’s a human being – probably cloned – with genetic enhancements to improve his brain power, senses and strength. Other than that, she really can’t tell us more because it all goes in the Captain’s classified file… at least for now.” He stopped and thought carefully for a moment, deciding how much he was authorized to tell her. “His advantage is gone now. When we leaped away from our home star system he lost the connection he had with his powerful friends. He’s quite alone now, at our mercy and very scared.”

“As long as he doesn’t hurt anyone, I’m satisfied. Although I’m not sure some of the civilians on board will agree with your decision.”

Adam watched her smile nervously and grinned back reassuringly. “Well, now that we’ve taken care of George I think we should go and get ready for the Fourth of July celebration.”

“What a great idea,” decided Nori. “I want to dance the night away, Mister.” She kissed him and he held onto her warmly.

“By the way – how is our friend Lieutenant Douglas dealing with the fact that he’s our new air group commander?” asked Adam curiously.

“Walter is just fine,” she replied. “He loves the Pathfinder project and is truly glad we got to come out this far to snoop around.” She smiled. “The best part is that he’s more of a brain like Thomas than a gifted pilot. He spends a lot of his spare time reading and therefore is not the hotshot flyboy who’s likely to win my job away from me.”

“Nobody is going to take your job,” Adam said confidently. “I’ve seen your flying and there isn’t anybody that crazy left on the ship.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, sir,” she said, fluttering her eyelids at him. She took his hand and they headed toward the doorway together.

“Don’t eat too much of that food, there, George,” Adam suggested as they walked past the cat on the floor. “You’ve grown too much already in just three short weeks.”

“Meow,” the cat replied between cat food crunches, just before the door slid shut.

*     * * *     *

Several large areas in the Garden wing had been roped off and decorated in reds, whites and blues specifically for the evening party. The main staging area was currently occupied by a group of musicians playing swing music when Mary arrived… she quickly surveyed the crowd looking for Glen. Frustrated, she headed over to one of the tables by the side of the nearest walking path and poured herself a glass of punch. Lots of people were already dancing and she watched them curiously while she waited. She knew he had worked most of the afternoon but was not in the mood to forgive him for tardiness – she had not come here just to watch other people dance. She wanted to step right up and get things started.

“How are you, Lieutenant?” Kaufield said from behind her. “Or should I have said… how are you doing there, oh beautiful lady in a bright red dress?” She turned and smiled, sipping punch from her glass.

“Half of us are here, anyway,” she commented as he stepped up beside her and turned to do his own survey of the crowd.

“Don’t be too hard on Glen,” smiled Dennis. “I’ve had him checking and double-checking the Canary probe data very thoroughly prior to each and every PTP transit. The rest of his staff has done a really great job taking over for Thomas but they still need some time to beat the learning curve. That’s a pretty sophisticated singularity we’ve got burning beneath the ship.”

“Blah blah blah blah blahh,” Mary said, setting her empty cup on the table. “If you won’t ask, I will. Would you like to dance, Captain?”

“I’d be delighted,” he said cheerfully, taking her by the hand and guiding her arm to his.

They stepped out into the area reserved for dancing and began a conservative two-step. As they danced, the Captain glanced over to the kids’ corner, where a clown was clumsily handing out animal balloons while trying to avoid tripping over his huge shoes. Joseph was in there somewhere amidst all the kids, clamoring with the rest of them for the entertainer’s attention.

“Who’s manning the Command Dome?” Mary asked.

“Adam is up there with a skeleton crew for now,” responded Kaufield. “And after a few quick dances and a ‘how’re ya’ doing’ or two I’m headed right back up there so he can pick up Nori and head on over.” He chuckled. “You should see him – he’s sitting up there in my chair wearing all his formal stuff. It looks like he’s waiting for a party to find him!”

“You should have snapped his picture and E-Noted it to all the officers,” Mary said. “I can see the caption now… new fleet uniforms required while on duty!” She smiled in relief as she saw Glen walking toward them, all dressed up himself.

“Why Captain, I do believe you’re making moves on my woman,” he said cheerfully. “Must I challenge thee to a duel?”

“I defer to you, sir,” the Captain replied, holding up his hands and backing away. “I’m going to go check on Joseph and see how many balloons he’s stuck to the roof. From what I hear, he’s getting pretty good at decorating the ceilings in here.”

Mary couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “Balloons are new,” she commented as Glen began dancing with her. “Usually Joseph uses the fruit from the trees.”

“I know, I have been reading the reports from Jeffrey’s maintenance staff,” Kaufield said with a smirk. “Please enjoy yourselves, folks. You do good work and I’m proud to have you as part of my crew.”

Mary leaned out slightly from behind Glen’s large frame to watch the Captain as he walked over toward the children’s area. “He’s sure in a good mood, isn’t he?” she said. “I wonder what’s so special in his world these days.”

“Maybe he’s happy to see everyone having a good time for a change,” suggested Glen, spinning her once while holding onto just the fingertips of her left hand. She completed the twirl and he pulled her close again. “Why don’t we sneak away real quick for a romantic walk through those trees behind you?” he whispered into her ear.

“Now that’s a great idea,” she decided.

If anyone noticed them leaving they didn’t say anything. The couple quickly ducked behind a grove of nearby trees and Glen led her steadily further back into the woodsy area of the Garden wing. They continued on for quite a ways, and Mary found it hard to believe just how much room there was for grass and growing things. It was a spectacular sight, and they weren’t even in the area for growing crops yet!

“Are you into the spirit of the party yet?” Glen asked, beginning to dance with her again. The music in the background had faded, but they could still hear it and he pressed his cheek close to hers. She closed her eyes and just danced with him for a few minutes before noticing just how far into the Garden wing he had led her.

“Oh Glen…” she said, looking out the open window they had neared. As far as she could see, clouds of brilliant white stars and intertwining, colorful nebulae dotted the blackness beyond. “This is beautiful… I knew we had moved the Pathfinder close to a cluster of galaxies, but I never expected to be able to see so much of it from in here!” She just stared in admiration, soaking in the spectacular view of the heavens outside.

“I dare say there will be a lot of people checking out the scenery from up here later this evening,” decided Glen. “But I wanted to share it with you first.” He kissed her softly and, almost immediately, she began to blush.

“How long have we been going together, anyway?” he asked, looking into her beautiful brown eyes. “Has it been over a year already?” She drew back her hand to smack him and he held up his left forefinger. “Actually,” he said, his brow furrowing intensely as he thought things carefully through, “My guess would be 627 days, 15 hours and 12 minutes.” He glanced at his watch as if to check his facts and she finally did lightly slap him on the shoulder.

“You’re more accurate than you know,” Mary said, mocking a bit of irritation. “It is actually closer to two years now than it is to one.”

“I know that… facts and figures are my specialty,” he said. “I checked very carefully this morning so that I would be correct with my facts at this evening’s celebration. It’s been 627 days, 15 hours and 11 minutes now since we first met…” He trailed off talking as she reared back to slap him harder this time. She stopped in mid-swing as he humbly lowered his head and dropped to one knee. “…And during that 1.7 years I knew from the start that it was only a matter of time before I worked up my courage and asked you to marry me. So why don’t we make it official right now!” He pulled a small black box out of his pocket, opened it, and held the diamond ring out for her to look over.

“Glen, are you serious?” she asked, attempting to hide her elation. The diamond in the ring sparkled brightly in the soft starlight winding through the dimly lit woods surrounding them. Her brown eyes were so wide with astonishment that he laughed heartily.

“Mary Hastings, will you marry me?” he asked, kissing her softly.

She reared back again and slapped him harder. “You had this planned all along, didn’t you?” she said, laughing so hard that tears ran from her eyes. She nervously wiped them dry, smiling happily the entire time.

“Of course I did Mary,” he said, rising back to his feet. “And when a fellow asks a lady a question like that, he’s usually feeling very vulnerable, scared, and extremely worked up with anxiety until she answers…”

“Yes,” she said, lowering her eyes. “Yes, I will marry you, Glen Fredericks.” She held out her hand as he put the ring on her finger and then they tenderly kissed again.

He resumed their slow dance and quickly earned a third slap from his bride-to-be. “Let’s get back to the party pal,” Mary said, her normally soft voice deepening with determination. “I’ve got some serious gossiping to do with my friends.” She laughed as she grabbed his hand and began pulling him back toward the distant sound of the music.

They walked past the tree rows and headed back toward the party area. The overhanging branches were quite thick so Mary was surprised again as they emerged from the trees to see everyone gathered around. The crowd began applauding as soon as the couple emerged back into the light and Lieutenant Mary Hastings promptly turned and whacked her boyfriend on his shoulder for the fourth time.

“Already the honeymoon is over,” he said, shaking his head. “And the abuse begins.”

“Everybody on the ship knew about this except for me?” Mary asked. Glen nodded and couldn’t help reacting to the expression on her face. He pulled a chair out from one of the tables, sat down in it and began laughing as loudly as he could. He could hear cameras clicking in the background and pointed a finger at her.

“I forgot my camera,” he said. “So I’m glad there are people out there who thought ahead and are preserving our first of many precious moments!”

“Congratulations,” Captain Kaufield said, walking over and heartily shaking Glen’s hand.

Joseph stood next to him with a huge smile on his face and handed Mary a bunch of brightly colored balloons. “Congratulations, Glen and Mary!” the twelve year old grinned.

“I’m glad you could be here, Captain,” Mary said, taking the balloons and holding them close to her. She smiled at the ecstatic grin on Joseph’s face and glanced around, picking out all the friendly faces in the crowd. Thomas was there, standing next to the really pretty brunette who lived directly across the corridor from her. She also spotted Adam and Nori, along with many of her other good friends. Dr. Simmons was also present along with Jeff Mathison, Corporal Henderson and his daughter Lucy. She hadn’t expected Julie to make it, and the thought of her friend and shipboard duties caused her to suddenly swirl around with a puzzled look at Kaufield. “Adam is here now, Captain. So who’s minding the store up in the Command Dome?” she asked, unable to restrain her curiosity.

“A couple of raw ensigns I found down below,” Dennis replied with a smile. “Actually I will be, in a few minutes anyway.” He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “I wouldn’t have missed this for the world, Lieutenant.” He glanced over at Adam. “I have to go back on duty after one more dance with Glen’s blushing new bride. I hope I can count on you to get Joseph home safely and keep the fruit off the ceilings.”

“Yes sir,” Adam promised, trying not to smirk as Nori elbowed him expertly.

The Captain turned around and proudly raised Glen and Mary’s clenched hands into the air. Everyone shouted and hooted their approval and began to applaud again. The Captain expertly waited for the crowd to quiet down and then shouted as loudly as he could, “What’s everybody waiting for? It’s the Fourth of July… let’s get this party going again!”

Later that evening found Dennis sitting comfortably in his chair on the Command Dome carefully studying the latest status reports. Several ensigns manned the stations normally helmed by Adam and Mary, but other than that the room was very quiet except for the background noise of the active equipment. He noticed on the overhead monitors that there were a couple of star systems in the immediate vicinity, but the Pathfinder currently sat very quietly in space near one of the few vacant areas thus far mapped in the Centaurus super-cluster. Dr. Markham needed darkness for her telescopes in order to minimize the star shine and use them to gaze as far as possible deeper yet into the space beyond.

The Captain was very grateful that he had not heard that terrible “enemy contacts” phrase used for well over a month now. People were actually beginning to feel safe and secure aboard ship, and he still held their general welfare listed as his number one priority. After the brutal attack they had all witnessed, just getting back into some semblance of a normal life had proved to be a daily challenge for everyone… not just the ship’s officers.

He remembered the horrible events, how fast everything had happened, and all the progress they had made since then. He also remembered very vividly the frightening encounter with the sinister Brotherhood and their mysterious warship. Looking back with a touch of hindsight, he felt that the right decisions had been made at the right time. There would always be things that bothered him, things that he felt he could have done better. But overall he was in good shape and was confident that he and the crew had made the best choices possible given the circumstances.

What he had kept to himself and would never tell anyone was the tie-breaker that Contingency Plan Delta had been. If Thomas had been unable to get the touch-screen technology reliably working for him, he would have ordered the crew to ignore the distress signal that they had inevitably responded to. It wasn’t something he was proud of and it made him feel a lot better knowing that they had produced working technology in time to allow them to show up and safely prove conclusively that the signal was indeed a trap.

But no matter how many times he had silently reviewed the situation his conclusions remained the same. Without a dependable way of defending the Pathfinder against an attack there was no way he would ever have ordered the vulnerable ship full of civilians anywhere near a possible confrontation with the murderous Brotherhood. Sometimes he wondered how many other ship commanders had been faced with the same decision, without the benefit of CAS technology at their disposal. How many of them had simply turned their ships toward the stars and transited directly into the unknown? He was still thinking over the possibilities when an electronic beep sounded from one of Mary’s consoles.

“Ensign Long,” he said, breaking the silence. “That sounds like an incoming transmission of some sort. Since such a transmission is a virtual impossibility considering our current situation, what exactly is causing that?”

There was a lengthy pause. “That’s what it is,” the sandy-haired young Ensign announced, clearly astounded. He turned and looked at Kaufield in utter astonishment. “We are receiving a signal from an external source – coming in on a secure military frequency. But how can that be?”

Dennis leaped out of his seat as if jolted with electricity. He ran over to the Ensign’s position and they both studied the motion sensor screens carefully. “There’s nothing else out there, not even a rock fragment close enough to transmit from,” the Captain pointed out. “Where the hell did it come from?”

“I have no idea, sir,” Ensign Long replied. “It was a very short data burst… just one image file and that was it. Other than that I’ve got nothing on record in the logs.”

Kaufield pointed at the nearest monitor. “If we can’t track down the source, let’s take a look at it. Put up the picture file, please.” The Ensign quickly complied and they both stared in complete shock at the image transmitted to them only seconds before.

*     * * *     *

Dr. Julie Markham was squinting into the viewfinder of one of her larger telescopes in the Observatory when she noticed Kaufield pull out a chair and sit down next to her. He tossed a sheet of printed paper on her desk and leaned back with a mysterious expression on his face. Intrigued, she pushed the viewfinder aside and picked up the piece of paper, carefully examining the image on it.

“Nice job,” she remarked. “I like all of the pretty colors. Are you thinking of taking up astronomy, Captain?”

“I didn’t create that,” he stated matter-of-factly.

“Well whoever did draw this has been paying close attention as we travel along through space. I’ve been developing some tentative sketches of my own but none nearly as interesting as this.” She smiled. “It’s quite possible that our new CAS technology will eventually allow us to explore beyond the event horizon – or outer edge – of our universe.” She frowned slightly. “Sorry Captain, I don’t mean to keep throwing terms like super-cluster and event horizon at people, but that’s what they’re called in all of the textbooks.” She paused, carefully studying the image on the sheet of paper. “Honestly, who did this Captain? I’d call it a very excellent hypothesis as to what lies beyond the perimeter of our universe.”

“No one on this ship,” he said, smiling ominously.

She stared at him, trying to get the joke she expected was hidden in his words. “Pardon me?”

“No one on this ship drew that,” Captain Kaufield replied, pointing at the sheet of paper in her hand. “We are out here alone – in the middle of nowhere – with most of our crew and passengers still in the Garden wing celebrating the Fourth of July. So I was just sitting up there on the Command Deck quietly minding the store…” he said, still sounding a bit stunned, “…and right out of the blue Ensign Long picks up a transmission.” He held out his hands. “As far as we can tell, there isn’t so much as a meteor floating anywhere near this ship as far out as our motion sensors can see. And yet we picked up a signal from an unknown source using one of our classified, encrypted military frequencies. We saved a record of the transmission and I used it to print that piece of paper.”

“Somebody – other than a person on board the Pathfinder – transmitted this image to you earlier tonight?” she repeated, her face turning chalk white. “And you don’t know who sent it?”

“No,” he insisted. “We checked everywhere in the vicinity and there is nothing. I came down here to show you this because I have a pretty good idea what it might be a sketch of and needed you to confirm it for me. I’m also hoping you can use your telescopes to try and search the surrounding area for a ship or planet. There was no PTP window detected and the signal was not faster than light. So now you know my problem… I have no idea how someone got it here at the perfect time for us to receive it.”

“Could we have intercepted an older transmission?” Julie asked. “You know, perhaps something someone sent years ago and it’s just now passing through this area?”

“Nope,” Kaufield said confidently. “The signal strength is perfect… it hasn’t traveled through any radiation storms or deteriorated in any way, shape, or form that we can determine based on a standard Comm-signal originating from a distant origin point. Somehow, someone transmitted that image file to the Command Dome, and I’ve been left here wondering who did it and how they managed the feat.”

“I have no idea,” said Julie, dumbfounded. She pointed to the yellow cube that denoted an enlarged area of a piece from the overall map in the lower right corner of the picture. “Do you realize what this means?”

“Yes,” Dennis said grimly. “It means someone or something out there has been observing us long enough to know who we are and the areas we’re visiting – even across billions of light years.” He rubbed his chin nervously. “And even more importantly, they know exactly where our home galaxy is and where we came from.”

14: XIII: Wasteland

THE PATHFINDER PROJECT

Chapter XIII: Wasteland

The day after the Fourth of July celebration proved to be as exciting on board the Pathfinder as the holiday itself had been. Since they were all personally invested in their journey through the stars together, Kaufield continued his policy of full disclosure – he withheld no new information. The only exception to this rule, of course, continued to be the medical and technical research on the captured Brotherhood spy. That part of their trip he considered to be a military matter, and – until proven otherwise – he was still operating under the assumption that there might be other undercover operatives on board. By morning of the next day, however, copies of the mystery transmission were circulating throughout the ship via E-Notes, and by lunch time it was easily the most popular subject overheard during discussions.

Who sent it? From where did they transmit?

One person had even proposed the theory that it was a message directly from God himself. Kaufield shook his head in amazement throughout the entire morning as he heard or read whacky theory after whacky theory. Couldn’t people find anything better to do with their time than come up with this stuff? When anyone asked him for his opinion – and there were a lot of people who did – he would politely respond each and every time that he was prepared to wait and see what further exploration of the immediate area revealed. Perhaps the answer was close or maybe it was a long way off… he was simply not ready to read too much into such a significant development without confirming it first with facts.

The Captain walked quickly into the restaurant at the rear of deck four and ordered a sandwich. His plan was to get a bite to eat and then move along to the rear of the ship and meet with staff from the Lab and Observatory wings. He grabbed a plate containing a chicken sandwich and poured himself a cup of coffee before moving to one of the empty tables to sit and eat his lunch. He noticed that Patrick Warren was working on the other side of the room, busily bussing tables left disorganized by the lunch crowd. There were several bruises on the left side of the man’s face and a bandaged cut under his right eye.

“May I join you?” Glen asked, appearing from behind and smiling as the Captain immediately waved him toward an empty chair.

“I’ve heard that our Brotherhood guest has had a few run-ins with some of the personnel down here, but then I guess we expected that,” the Captain commented.

“A little uncertainty concerning his own personal safety is doing him a world of good,” Glen replied, taking a bite from his own sandwich. “He’s been working his butt off in here, hoping everyone will just leave him alone. Without his friends and their nuclear missiles, he sure doesn’t have a lot of self-confidence left.”

“There have been three documented attacks on this man so far,” the Captain pointed out. “Some of those boys working the tougher jobs in the hangar bay naturally need to let off some steam… but I don’t like it much when they get carried away. I’ve got four of them cooling their heels in the brig for a while… perhaps they’ll drink a little less and work harder now that they’ve got assault charges filed against them.”

“There are lots of folks on board that are wondering if an attack on him qualifies as an assault,” said Glen, taking a drink of fruit juice from the plastic cup in front of him.

“It does as long as I’m the Captain and the ship’s Council agrees with me,” replied Kaufield. “I will not tolerate hate crimes on this ship.” He gave Warren a quick once over. “From what I hear he is quite strong and can hold his own very well. We may all pick up a few bruises here or there before matters are settled between us and this Brotherhood fellow, but in the end I have confidence that we’ll all be okay.”

“We have a preliminary report on that device you found in his quarters,” Glen reported. “It’s some kind of transceiver like the ones we use on the fighters and other support ships, but much more complex.” He took another sip of juice. “That’s undoubtedly how he got the viruses into the systems of our support ships in the hangar bay. My guess is that it is also part of a larger wireless network when used in conjunction with other similar devices in the vicinity of our home star system. We’ve identified the encryption process and frequencies it uses, but unless we can record some of the actual wireless signals that it processes, I don’t think we’ll be learning much more regarding how their communications systems work.”

“We’re not going back home… at least not yet,” Kaufield said, watching Warren carefully. “According to Dr. Simmons, he’s basically a human biological being just like you and me… with upgrades. What was the Brotherhood thinking when they created him?”

“Perhaps they wanted soldiers, first and foremost… reliable soldiers.”

“Advancements like that could have helped Earth’s population, cured diseases…” observed the Captain thoughtfully.

“And the first thing they do is infiltrate other nations and try to wipe us out,” Glen said angrily. “It literally boggles the mind as to what type of thinking process could conceive of that, let alone assemble all of the resources needed to try and make it happen.”

“That’s what I’ve been wondering about him,” the Captain replied with a crisp nod in Warren’s direction. “Is there still some semblance of a conscience at the center of their so-called ‘new society’ thinking, or is their government now led only by sociopathic murderers? We do know from our encounter at Khyber Base that they were willing to let us surrender.” He laughed darkly. “God only knows what being a prisoner of theirs would be like.”

Glen finished his sandwich and pushed his plate aside. “Only a mind running on greed, ambition, a quest for power… only someone like that could order the death of so many people and that kind of destructive nuclear attack without feeling so much as a hint of remorse.”

“Yeah, I know,” said Kaufield, jerking a thumb in Warren’s direction. “So what does that make him? According to Dr. Simmons, he’s an emotional basket case. He regularly endures severe fits of guilt, both at what his people did to us and at what he tried to do here on the Pathfinder. She’s actually had to begin giving him medication in order to keep him stable enough to work here in the restaurant.”

“We’re never going to have all the answers if we can’t return home and find out,” Glen predicted. “That’s the only thing that bothers me about being out here, Captain. What is happening back home?” He looked at his watch with a frown. “I’d better be getting back to work or they’ll be calling for me. Thanks for the chat.”

“My pleasure,” Kaufield replied sincerely. “And thank you, by the way, for the update on Warren’s communications device… it saves me from having to stop by later and disturb your work.”

His next stop was the Observatory wing, or Julie’s ‘office’. He entered through the hatchway and noticed that the area was bustling with activity. On one table in the center of the wing were a series of laptop computers. Thomas, Kari and three other members of Julie’s staff were busy installing updated software onto them. He immediately noticed the obvious attraction in the smiles between Thomas and his new girlfriend. He chuckled quietly… a new, fresh bond of love was definitely forming rapidly between the two of them. Considering all that Thomas had endured to preserve the safety of both ship and crew, the Captain figured that the young scientist had a few happier days owed to him. He was pleased to see things working out.

Julie herself was busy studying several images captured by telescope. She had them displayed side by side on the monitor at her work station, and Kaufield took a quick glance at them as he eased into an empty chair next to her.

“Good afternoon, Captain.” She said pleasantly enough.

“Good afternoon,” he replied. “Have you decided where you’d like to take the ship next?”

“Are you getting anxious to explore some more?” she asked.

“Absolutely, Doctor. We’ve moved around so far and so fast that I get absolutely itchy if we just sit around in one area for too long.”

She smirked at his attitude and pointed to a spot on the right picture. “How about here?” she asked carefully, and his gaze moved from her face to the tip of her finger. A small, for-the-most-part spiral-shaped galaxy sat in its center. Her finger was pointing to a bright white spot in the center of one of its spiral arms.

“What’s causing the bright spot? The latest mystery for the day?” guessed the Captain.

“Exactly,” she replied. “But it’s not a bright spot. This picture is a modified copy of the image on the left with darker areas enhanced. So the regions without a lot of light look whiter and vice versa.” It was her turn to look at him. “For some reason I cannot fathom, there are a lot of variable low-intensity stars in that vicinity and I’m very curious as to what the cause is. Normally, you would find most of them scattered randomly about amongst the other stars, not clumped together in one big bunch like that. The central computer identifies all kinds of ‘out of the ordinary’ patterns for us each day, but it kicked this one out at the top of the list.”

“Why?” queried Kaufield. “So you’ve got a series of cooler stars grouped together. What’s so special about that?” He shrugged. “It’s probably just one of the random things that you will occasionally find out here when there are trillions of different objects all scattered about.”

“It came out at the top of the list because Glen’s group in the Lab is also picking up man-made electromagnetic transmissions from that same area. He confirmed the discovery for me immediately.”

“Really,” the Captain said, sounding a little taken aback. “I had lunch with him a few minutes ago and I definitely don’t remember him mentioning that.”

“He must have wanted you to be surprised,” she theorized, then pointed again at the picture. “The signals we received are very weak, sporadic, and extremely old. There’s no way to translate or convert them to anything we could read or view. They’ve traveled a long way to get here at light speed, so it’s very fortunate for us that they haven’t deteriorated to the point where we would be unable to determine if they’re artificial or natural in origin.” Before he could ask she continued, “And we also ran into them the old-fashioned way, so no I don’t think they have anything whatsoever to do with whoever transmitted your infamous ‘universe diagram’.”

“But it is a definite sign of intelligent life like our own,” Dennis decided.

“Affirmative,” Julie replied. “I recommend we go here next, Captain,” she said, placing the tip of her finger directly on top of the bright area in the center of the picture. “Take us to the fourth spiral arm of celestial object PGC-2014206, please.”

“Excuse me?” he asked, a bit confused by the reference.

“Oh, we’ve long since exhausted our old methods of charting objects in the universe,” she pointed out, eager to expound on her staff’s accomplishments. “So we developed a new system that allows the computer to keep everything nice and organized for us. PGC-2014206 stands for ‘Pathfinder Galaxy Cluster number two million, fourteen thousand, two hundred and six’. That’s where we’ll find the source of those transmissions, probably sent over six thousand years ago by a culture which – at that time – had only limited technology. Our experts predict the people living there would have just discovered global communications like television and radio. As their technology improves and space travel becomes more normal they soon learn to put up orbiting geo-synchronous satellites and keep more and more of their wireless activity localized.”

“You’ve charted over two million objects already?” Kaufield gasped.

“Puh-leez Captain,” Julie said, shaking her head at him. “You’re the leader of this project… you know what our computers can do. PGC stands for Pathfinder Galaxy Cluster…” she repeated. “We’ve charted over two million known galaxies like our own Milky Way so far. We’re also attempting to document ideal stars and planets in each of them, the best prospects for containing fresh water and indigenous life… that really keeps the computer busy. Most of the galaxies in our catalogue are only partially mapped – our system is programmed to pick out key stars, nebulae, and other objects that assist us with navigation and record those first. By the time it’s done crunching all the numbers for our primary targets and ready for the secondary ones we’re generally ready to move the ship along and explore farther.”

“I know, I just said that so you could brag,” he said, keeping his expression deadpan so she couldn’t tell if he was fibbing or not. “Although we may have to make a few more trips through the universe before you can map everything, I take it.”

“I’d say we’ll need a few hundred thousand additional trips,” she said, correcting him with a pleased smile. “We’re traveling in one basic direction away from our Milky Way in an ever-expanding three dimensional sphere, remember? Plus you have to take into account that our ability to record and store information is limited to the speed of our computer systems, not to mention all the other little things like the stars that occasionally go super nova, crash into each other, and so on…”

“Fine, I admit it. Your work is very impressive, Dr. Markham,” Dennis said, a little too defensively for her taste. “If you’ll pass your target coordinates on to the Lab wing, I’ll leave orders with them to make the next transit in an hour or so.”

“I can tell that you’re impressed,” she shouted after him, watching his back as he turned and headed back toward the exit hatches. “Don’t you love a good mystery now and then, Captain?” She asked. “For instance, have those people who originally sent the transmissions that Glen received established a working, peaceful society or are they long dead? I myself simply cannot wait to find out!”

*     * * *     *

The first star system they passed by in the fourth spiral arm of PGC-2014206 revealed little new information – at first. It was simply a blue giant star that they were viewing extremely late in its short life span. Such stars were well-known for squandering their limited fuel at a phenomenally quick rate over the course of a few million years or so. It had no doubt blazed quite radiantly during that time, but now was slowly on its way toward evolving into a red giant. Soon after, it would quite probably disappear in the giant blast of a supernova.

“But why is it here, in one of the inner spiral arms?” Dr. Markham asked from the open Comm-link next to Dennis. He was back in his seat on the Command Dome, carefully monitoring the results of each of the three CAS transits the Pathfinder had properly executed in the past twenty minutes. They had carefully approached the galaxy, and… sensing no danger from either the Canary probes or their own motion sensors, gradually moved in toward the coordinates specified earlier that afternoon by Julie.

“Why shouldn’t it be?” Dennis replied. “It’s just one scattered amongst the billions of others in this galaxy, is it not?”

“You really need to start reading the background information I include along with my regular reports,” Julie decided. “This entire area is filled with blue and super-giant stars like the one on your overhead monitor, Captain. This star even has a series of asteroid belts orbiting it... a definite indication that it once had the ability to form planets. Blue giants generally start out as very bright stars, but they burn so brightly and quickly that they have an extremely short life span. They don’t usually live long enough to drift this far inward toward a Galaxy’s center. So finding a couple dozen of them in this area would be totally normal, but our discovery of 11,000 is a genuine mystery that I would like to make every effort to solve.”

“11,000?”

“That’s right,” she replied confidently. “And one of the four fading stars in this immediate location is the projected source of the transmissions that Glen received. Until we got here and found nothing I was pretty much convinced that it was this system.”

“So you’re saying that as recently as six thousand years ago there was a star system inhabited by living beings out there, at or within a few light years of this particular star.”

“Within ten light years, unquestionably,” she replied. “So I hope you can understand my puzzlement when we currently can’t find a star with normal enough emissions to support planets and biological life within a hundred and twelve light year radius.”

“What the hell happened between then and now?” Kaufield wondered out loud.

“Maybe it wasn’t biological life that was here,” Adam suggested warily from his station. “Maybe it was something completely new and never before encountered.”

“But this star and its neighbors looked like totally normal yellow stars from our previous position earlier this morning,” insisted Julie. “We were situated exactly 6,217 light years distant when I viewed this spiral arm through one of our telescopes and Glen picked up the old signals. So if you take into account that those transmissions and the light from the stars in this galaxy travel at the speed of light, that means we were viewing this area earlier today as it was 6,217 years ago.” She paused to let everyone think about that for a moment. “It’s why I was so sure the source of those radio and television signals would be here, and also why I was only expecting to find a cluster of  9,500 dimmed stars.”

Mary turned around in shock and stared at Kaufield. “So those asteroid belts out there…” she couldn’t bring herself to say the words and just gazed in astonishment at the picture of the star on the overhead monitors above them.

“Those asteroid belts are quite probably all that is left of the planets that used to orbit this star,” Dr. Markham said, finishing Mary’s statement for her. “And since we can now accurately project a timeline based on our previous position from this morning, at least 1,500 additional stars have been damaged somehow and lost most of their radiant energy within the past 6,217 years.”

“That means whatever the hell caused all this is still spreading,” Kaufield said, his own voice a little shaky. “About four stars per year are going dark. I would imagine the repeated shockwaves generated as each star suddenly transitions into a blue giant is also what destroys the orbiting planetary objects.”

“Agreed,” Julie said in reply. “Whether it’s some sort of natural phenomenon or a disaster caused by man-made technology remains to be seen, but something in the arm of this galaxy is most definitely destroying entire stars at a pretty steady rate.”

“Oh you can bet it will be some type of weapon that was made by people,” concluded Adam pessimistically. “It’s a weapon made by angry people who are at war with each other. We haven’t found any natural phenomenon in all of our history that can move faster than light between stars. Four stars destroyed per year is a pretty damning indicator in my opinion.”

“It’s of even greater concern to me when you consider that the majority of stars in an average galaxy are already the uninhabitable, cooler red giants that are in the later stages of their most lengthy lifespan,” Julie commented. “Those stars are here all around us too but they haven’t been touched. It’s only the newer, cooler stars like our own back home that are progressively being destroyed.”

Kaufield swiveled in his chair. “Mary, I know we have language and linguistic communications specialists on board. Find them and have them begin reviewing those transmissions that Glen picked up. Julie thinks they’ve decayed pretty well over the years but you never know. Have them try and translate something that could be useful.”

She nodded and opened her own Comm-link while Dennis kept his open. “Julie, you said that the Pathfinder’s position earlier this morning allowed us to essentially ‘look backward’ in time over 6,000 years. If we plot a series of transits back outward in stages of… say… ten to twenty light years per trip, can you pinpoint one or more positions in this damaged area where the stars have most recently gone dark?”

“That would be a piece of cake,” she replied.

“Then let’s do that,” Kaufield ordered, a chill running up and down his spine.

What the devil was going on in this area of space?

*     * * *     *

It took them several days, but the Pathfinder continued to explore, pausing at each new location for an hour or so before the next transit in a pre-planned series was executed. Dr. Markham had their exact destinations plotted on a three dimensional image of the galaxy’s fourth spiral arm. They were moving in a gradual arc farther and farther away… with the computer updating the color coded image each they time they moved with stars that were no longer viewed from the observatory as dimmed.

Near the end of the second day they had a basic map plotted showing the exact course of the destruction. The most recent activity was all concentrated on the edge of the wasteland farthest from the inner side of the spiral arm. That placed it close to their initial entry point inside the spiral arm. However, it was not quite close enough for them to reasonably determine if anything might still be alive somewhere within the damaged area.

The Pathfinder’s specialists were unable to determine anything useful from the older communications that Glen’s team had recorded. They were simply too old, had traveled too far, and were basically identified as routine news and video clips. Without a way to enhance or repair the damaged parts of the transmissions – which had no doubt traveled through some very nasty nebulae and radiation clouds on their way out of the Galaxy – there was simply no way to identify more than an occasional phrase or two. They did promise that, given more time, they would be able to learn more about the ancient civilization, even if it wasn’t a perfect report.

On the morning of the third day, Kaufield and Julie chose a destination twelve standard light hours from one of the most recent stars to go quiet. This information, of course, was based on the current images they had taken on their first trip inside the damaged region of space, not the older view from outside. The Pathfinder executed a CAS transit back inside the fourth spiral arm, and shortly thereafter a pair of short-range shuttles lifted off from the hangar bay and PTP transited even closer into the Galaxy to see what they could discover.

“They’re going to find a lot of destruction that will sicken them,” Julie predicted. “The star we’re closest to use to have sixteen planets and at least eighty-two moons. Now we can find only this…” She swiveled the monitor at her work station toward Kaufield. “That’s what’s left of planet number five,” she said. He just stared for a moment at the remains of a planet that had been bombed into oblivion. There were huge, blackened craters scattered across most of its surface and even several large chunks that had been splintered and separated away from the main planetary body. The Captain looked upon it as a miracle that the remaining debris still held any kind of orbit at all, much less a normal, circular one.

“So Adam is right,” Kaufield said softly. “Somebody’s got themselves an interstellar war going on in there and they don’t give a damn as to who or what gets caught in the crossfire.”

“Adam is very insightful,” commented Julie. “And yes, he is right. There’s a huge war in progress within this galaxy, and it passed right through this area sometime within the last century. Yesterday, from seventy-two light years away, we were studying the contents of this planet’s atmosphere,” she said, pointing toward the image. “But since we have the technology to be here, right now, we can tell that it no longer has one – everything was boiled away into space after the planet suffered severe structural damage.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “Was it the attack on the planet itself that blew away its atmosphere… or perhaps a mystery weapon that collapsed the sun’s nuclear furnace billions of years before its natural aging process would have? I couldn’t even begin to guess.” She said. “Not without a whole lot of additional information.”

“And the society that sent those transmissions we received…”

“A new civilization, probably on the verge of discovering space travel,” Julie commented. “One day they woke up and a war that they didn’t start and played no part in just rolled over on top of them and left everyone dead.”

“11,000 star systems destroyed? That’s unbelievable,” the Captain commented. “Someone’s been going toe to toe with each other using those kinds of weapons for…”

“…For almost forty-six thousand years,” she finished for him. “Whoever, or whatever they are, they’re hideous and they’re evil. They don’t care who or what gets in their way as long as they can capture or destroy resources a star system at a time. And when they’re not busy destroying whole stars and planets to prevent others from accessing their resources, they probably do their best to kill off enemies, too.”

“Just when I thought there couldn’t be anything more evil than the Brotherhood, we find this,” Kaufield said. “I was hoping that if we found another civilization out here, they might be able to help us or at least be somewhat sympathetic to our cause.” He sighed heavily. “Now you’re telling me we’ve found something even more deadly than the Brotherhood?” He sighed and exhaled slowly. “I won’t need to wear my diplomat hat here.”

“I wouldn’t recommend taking the Pathfinder in there,” she said simply.

“Not a chance,” said Dennis. “As soon as the shuttles return we’re heading very far away from this place. I’ll be glad to let them carry on with their business in this eternal hell that they’ve created for themselves.”

 

He was extremely relieved when he finally heard from Dashboard and Hopper. Sitting in the Command Dome waiting for something to happen had stretched on endlessly for what seemed like an eternity, so he practically leaped out of his chair when Mary received the first transmission.

“Shuttles one and three ready for docking, Pathfinder,” announced Dashboard. “We picked up a lot of wireless transmissions from at least three different sources, but we didn’t dare move in any closer,” he commented. “Your orders were to be wary, and I think you’ll agree with our decision once you get a look at the damage that’s been done to each and every planet that we surveyed.”

“Clear them for immediate landing,” Kaufield said to Mary. She nodded in response.

“Shuttles one and three, you are cleared for docking. Please use the forward… repeat forward docking bay to land.”

“Copy that,” Dashboard replied.

Dennis barely heard the routine communications traffic. He was busy watching the expression on Adam’s face as he read Julie’s summary report from their earlier discussion. The helmsman glanced up at the Captain in shock and Dennis nodded in silent agreement.

“This is unbelievable, Captain,” he said, absolutely stunned.

“I’m not releasing that kind of information to the rest of the crew just yet,” Dennis decided. “A delay regarding news of this magnitude would be best until we’re safely away.”

“I agree 100 percent,” said Adam, still stunned by the news.

He was still mentally reviewing their next potential destination possibilities when every alarm in the Command Dome sounded simultaneously. He immediately spun around in his seat, but whatever it was hadn’t yet been put up on the overhead monitors.

“I have a motion sensor contact, Captain. There’s another ship in the area,” Mary reported. “It’s at location 321 bearing 104… a really big ship. I’m adjusting one of the external cameras to put it up on the viewer.”

As she spoke, the overhead image flickered and focused on the darkened hull of the newcomer. The Captain almost had to squint to see it, since there were very few internal lights on the beast. It looked like a really large floating hunk of rectangular metal with gun ports situated everywhere. He couldn’t see any sign of other support vessels, but that certainly didn’t mean there weren’t any. The Pathfinder’s fighter squadron had limited stealth technology, so he was hesitant to rule out the strong possibility that these people might also possess it.

“They can track a ship through PTP transit,” Adam declared with disgust. “They followed our patrol right back to us.”

“Speaking of which, get those shuttles down,” Kaufield said to Mary. “We’re getting the hell out of here.” He tapped a series of keystrokes into the nearest Comm-link. “Glen, get the CAS Drive ready. Pick any emergency transit destination that’s more than 1,000 light years from this area.”

“Roger that, Captain,” was Glen’s quick reply.

“Of course they can track us. It makes perfect sense,” Kaufield said to Adam. “Those buggers have had over forty thousand years to perfect their technology and tactical strategy.” As they continued to watch, a small section of the enemy vessel slowly disengaged from the larger ship. It too was rectangular, and the front edge of it rotated toward the Pathfinder. Before anyone could even open their mouth to speak the smaller ship vanished in a sinister-looking scarlet PTP flash.

“Glen reports that they can see it out their windows down in the Lab wing,” Mary said a moment later, her face whitening with terror. “The smaller vessel short-range transited directly alongside the top of our hangar bay… starboard side.” As she spoke a series of three loud thuds rumbled through the Pathfinder’s hull.

“Glen’s team reports a visual on a series of grappling cables, Captain. The alien shuttle has attached them to our hull and is retracting them, pulling themselves toward us. When they get close enough, they will no doubt board the Pathinder – probably through deck four of the passenger section!”

“Like hell they will,” Kaufield said, moving to the tactical console next to Mary. He activated its work station and watched the new laptop quickly power up from its sleep mode. “Adam, fire up the maneuvering thrusters and move us away from the mother ship, please. And if possible, I’d appreciate it if you would shake that thing next to our hangar bay loose.”

“Aye, sir,” Adam replied.

The Pathfinder’s engines roared to life and the starship swerved sharply to port. The enemy shuttle attached to their starboard side twisted and turned also, but it’s grappling cables held firm. As their course shifted away from the mother ship, the Pathfinder’s motion sensors were finally able to peer behind it. Additional contacts lit up on Mary’s console and she turned to the Captain to let him see four smaller fighters move out of the larger vessel’s shadow. All four accelerated ahead of their command ship and began to close on the Pathfinder.

“Both shuttles are aboard, Captain,” she reported.

“Good,” Kaufield said, his expression becoming more and more intense as the situation escalated. He tapped the Comm-link next to him a second time. “Hangar bay this is the Captain. Launch six fighters out of the port – repeat – port hangar bay,” he ordered. “Have them engage the incoming fighters and… if necessary, the mother vessel. The Pathfinder – again I repeat – the Pathfinder will handle the enemy shuttle that is flanking us to starboard.”

“Acknowledged, Captain,” responded Andy ‘Mad Dog’ Wolf himself from down below. “I’ll alert the launch crews, pronto.”  Kaufield waited specifically until he heard his order to launch fighter cover confirmed before switching the Comm-link’s open channel.

“Glen what’s our escape status?” he asked quickly.

“Unpredictable as long as that shuttle is attached,” he said. “We’ve got to get them off of us or they’ll screw up our PTP window. They’ve got some sort of jamming equipment engaged specifically for that purpose. Initiating a transit right now could kill us all.”

“I’m on it,” Kaufield declared angrily, “and I’ll get back to you in just a minute.” The screen in front of him finished powering up and he immediately activated the motion sensor link so that both he and Mary could monitor the situation. Two more of the smaller shuttles were detaching from the mother ship. They no doubt also intended to PTP alongside the Pathfinder and attach to them with grappling cables. Again Kaufield switched his Comm-link. “Colonel Neeland, please get your men together and have them begin evacuating passenger deck four. It’s quite possible that we may get boarded.”

“We’ll be right there Captain,” he heard the Colonel promise.

“Well,” Kaufield said, taking a quick appraisal of Mary’s concerned expression. “This has turned out to be one damned depressing day so far, hasn’t it?”

15: XIV: Situation Normal...

THE PATHFINDER PROJECT

Chapter XIV: Situation Normal…

Jack Dandridge waited helplessly, standing next to a crowd of concerned civilians and two armed marines. At least twenty other people were tightly crowded together with him in a lift currently rising from passenger level four to the third level above them. The usually quick trip seemed to take an eternity and he wasn’t exactly dealing with the stress too well.

“First I find out this ship has a Chapel built specifically for losers,” he stated snidely. “Then I’m told there’s a Brotherhood undercover agent living next door to me… and now we’re being boarded by an unknown alien species. What the hell else can go wrong on this ship?” He noticed the odd looks from some of the equally scared passengers surrounding him but – as usual – he didn’t care. The door opened and everyone hastily exited onto the third passenger level.

“Out, out, out!” one of the marines shouted. “We’ve got another load of people waiting down below. Move your ass!” He grabbed Dandridge by the collar and shoved him out the door. Jack turned around angrily to give the marine a piece of his mind but suddenly landed flat on his behind as he was unexpectedly bowled over by someone running into the elevator.

“Down!” Thomas Roh shouted, pointing at the floor. “Go down now! I’ve got to get to the Lab wing… the safety of the entire ship depends on it. I swear to God.” One of the marines looked at him with dismay, so Thomas firmly held up the Council patch that he had hastily grabbed on the way out of his quarters.

“You want to go down… there?” Dandridge asked, looking up from the deck with astonishment. He picked himself up and silently watched Thomas in disbelief until the lift doors slid closed, separating him from the young scientist and the pair of marines.

Inside the elevator one of the marines turned to Thomas. “We’ll take you down but we have orders to evacuate all of the passengers from down there. So if you change your mind and want to come back up you’re going to be out of luck. We can’t wait for you.”

“I’m not coming back up,” said Thomas determinedly. “One way or another, I’m going to get to the Lab wing.”

The instant the door snapped open he and the marines stepped out of the elevator car. The last group of people began moving into it and the two marines watched them carefully, weapons held at the ready. Thomas was already gone – running full speed down the corridor, ignoring the moving sidewalks as he pulled up next to a crowd of marines setting up barricades and taking up concealed positions inside some of the still-open doors to passenger quarters.

“Hey, you can’t go down there!” one of the marines said, grabbing Thomas by the left shoulder. “It’s quite possible there will be enemy troops boarding us any minute.”

“Corporal Henderson… right?” Thomas asked, recognizing him. He watched the man nod and pointed to the distant end of the corridor. “I have information vital to the survival of this ship.” Again he held up his Council ID. “I don’t need any crap from anybody but I do have to get to the Lab wing. I’ll explain everything later but for now please get out of the way!”

Henderson glanced at the man next to him. “Private, you and Jacobs escort this man to the Lab wing immediately. Make sure he gets there safely!”

“Getting there isn’t going to be the problem,” the Private said nervously as he, Jacobs, and Thomas began sprinting down the corridor at top speed. “If we get boarded, coming back here to you guys in one piece is going to be the tough part!”

The Corporal watched them go, reminding himself to smack both of his men on the head later. The kid out-sprinted them easily, leaving them quickly behind as he ran all out. It’s true that the two marines were carrying heavy equipment and watching for signs of armed intrusion, but still… he couldn’t pass on this opportunity to embarrass them at least a little bit.

Thomas continued running, his thoughts returning once more to Glen’s statement about the enemy having ‘jamming capability’ in use against their CAS system. It hadn’t made sense, so he had continued using his Quorum clearance to monitor all critical ship’s communications when suddenly everything had clicked. He knew exactly what to do… all he had to do was get to the Lab wing before disaster struck.

In the Lab wing Glen and the rest of the Laboratory staff were getting ready to reset the CAS system to see if they could reboot and try once more to establish a viable PTP window. He still had all available cameras trained on the sinister alien shuttle lurking right next door, carefully studying the enemy ship as it continued winding its grappling cables tighter and tighter, pulling closer to the Pathfinder with each passing minute.

Through the tiny window ports of the enemy vessel they could see dozens of dark-uniformed troops wearing black helmets. All of them were square-jawed and held huge rifles while waiting patiently until the opportunity to board the starship and wreak havoc arrived. He could see sparks dropping in several of those portholes, indicating that they already held welding torches active. As soon as contact was made with the Pathfinder’s hull, they would begin cutting through.

Glen was still working furiously to prevent that from happening when a beep sounded on the console behind him. Turning, he noticed a large red flash from the E-Note icon on the work station’s screen, indicating that his terminal had just received a top-priority message. It caught his attention because he had never received something flagged with that much security clearance before. Hurriedly, he opened the note and read:

Glen… Ship’s CAS difficulty is NOT due to jamming by enemy. Do NOT, repeat, do NOT reset CAS system. On my way down. Stand by… Thomas

P.S. George says hi!

Glen laughed out loud, mostly from absolute frustration and was wondering what to do next when he heard the hatchway behind him opening. Thomas burst through the door followed closely by two armed marines, and he sighed with relief. The young scientist was gasping for breath but immediately pointed at the image of the enemy ship.

“Get clearance from the Captain…” he said, inhaling deeply. “So we can use the CAS arm as a weapon against them!”

Glen thought carefully about Thomas’ statement for five seconds and then realized what the kid was talking about. He nodded with understanding and opened a direct Comm-link to Kaufield. In the background of the sound crackling out of the speaker, he could hear the Captain issuing orders.

“Yes, launch both shuttles!” Kaufield was saying. “Load pilots and gun crews only. Have both ships use their rail guns to provide covering fire for the F-175 squadron.”

“Captain, this is Glen,” Fredericks interrupted, grinning for the first time since the crisis began. “I’m sorry to disturb you, but Thomas is here and has suggested that we use the retractable CAS arm to break the grappling cables on the shuttle next to us. It’s designed to extend a lot farther from the ship than we normally deploy it to keep unpredictable radiation away from the hull during emergency situations.” He shook his head at the complete simplicity of the plan as they continued to watch the enemy drift closer. “I’m certain this will work.”

“Then do it,” the Captain ordered.

“It’s not going to go well for them,” Glen warned. “Our hull is insulated, but the arm itself is hot. Just to let you know, there could be a lot of casualties on their end…”

“Take whatever action is necessary to keep the enemy from boarding the Pathfinder,” commanded Kaufield decisively. “That is an order.”

Glen glanced over at Thomas who was already tapping commands into one of the work stations. “I’ll handle the CAS arm,” he said as he watched the kid type. “I would imagine you’re already working on the instability problem with our PTP window.”

“It’s the dark matter that’s causing the problem,” Thomas said absently as he continued furiously typing commands into his computer. “For some reason there’s a lot more of it in this area than we’ve found in previous locations. We’ve been trying to figure out how to more quickly identify and chart it down in the Observatory without any luck so far. Trust me; the extra mass from the dark matter in this region of space is what’s messing up our computer model, not some sort of jamming field from the enemy ships.”

“Dark matter,” Glen growled. “I really hate that stuff, you know!”

Thomas momentarily stopped typing and took the time to glance at his colleague, smiling widely. “You listened to me! The CAS system is still on-line! An E-Note actually beat me down here for once, didn’t it?”

“There’s a first time for everything,” commented Glen as he began fully unfolding the thin metal arm beneath the Pathfinder’s hangar bay. Normally they kept the arm at minimum safe distance but it quickly extended as soon as Fredericks activated its remote control mechanism. The long arm swiveled out to starboard and suddenly he could see brilliant white flashes on the enemy shuttle’s hull. The white-hot singularity at the tip of the arm continued to burn furiously. “It’s a piece of cake from here,” Glen said, noticing idly that he was talking to himself. He folded the outer length of the arm upward and then raised it between the Pathfinder and the approaching enemy. With that done he swept the arm from ship’s stern toward the bow, all the way along the length of its fuselage. The flickering light from the still active singularity bathed the alien shuttle in a sinister glow, making it appear even more intimidating.

“Surprise, suckers!” he heard Thomas shout.

They both watched the images of the grappling cables on the monitors in front of them snap instantly as the arm continued to move gradually toward the front of the starship and touched them each, one by one. Off the top of his head, Glen could think of at least ten substances that would hold up against the hot jolt of current that currently radiated along the CAS arm. Fortunately for them, the cables were composed of normal metallic ores and thus also functioned as a near-perfect conductor. The entire enemy shuttle briefly lit up with white flashes of electricity as each cable split.

“We’re separated, Captain. You can have Adam begin moving us away!”

“Acknowledged,” the Captain replied. At almost the same instant they heard a pair of familiar sounding thuds against the hull.

“Scratch that,” Adam said. “There’s still somebody alive and kicking over there, and they’re not giving up. They’ve just fired two more grapplers at us.”

“Our hull is insulated, you should expect that at least some of theirs would be,” growled Kaufield. “Get that enemy piece of junk off my ship, Glen!”

“Working on it,” he said, adjusting the targeting mechanism on the arm. He swung it back down below the enemy ship and raised it slowly up until it was within inches of touching their hull. The powerful flickering singularity immediately melted through metal while Glen used the control system on his work station to drag the tip of the CAS arm backwards along the bottom of the enemy ship. They watched on their monitors as section after section of the ship depressurized. Several internal explosions rocked the shuttle and he noticed bodies and pieces of glowing debris flying into space. He finished up by repeating the initial maneuver, cutting them loose from the two newly-fired grappling cables. They watched with satisfaction as the enemy ship dipped helplessly forward and began to drift slowly away, completely powerless.

“There’s a very good reason we keep that singularity extended away from our own ship,” grinned Thomas with a nod.

“We’re free again Captain,” he said. “Unless they transit more shuttles next to us, that is. And the next time they’ll try and take the CAS arm out first… that will strand us here.”

“You let me worry about that,” the Captain replied firmly. “Just get our transit capability back and be ready for action as soon as we recover all support craft.”

“We’re already on it,” Thomas promised.

*     * * *     *

On the command deck, Dennis continued to issue orders. “Hangar deck, this is Kaufield. Place six more fighters on active standby and have them ready to launch through the starboard tubes on my order.” He heard the acknowledgement and quickly reviewed the motion sensor screen in front of him. The first shuttle was no longer a threat, but the other two transports had moved in closer to try their own luck. One flanked them to port this time, the other flashed out of PTP directly beneath. Obviously the enemy to port was hoping to link up with them as the first vessel had while its counterpart moved close enough for a shot at the CAS wand.

Adam didn’t have to be told – he continued to maneuver the Pathfinder away from the initial attack point, rolling the large starship on its side as he did so. As they moved away with their vulnerable point temporarily protected one of the shuttles ignored the chaotic, ill-aimed fire from its attackers and trained its rail guns on the enemy beneath them. They quickly shot the unprepared ship full of holes… the few lights it had went instantly dark. The other enemy troop transport quickly began backing off as the shuttle immediately turned its attention, and blazing guns, in their direction.

“All support ships, this is Captain Kaufield. Take all necessary action to prevent the enemy ships from moving within firing range of the Pathfinder.” He kept his eye trained on the largest contact representing the attacking mother ship. “Especially that big sucker launching shuttles at us!” he snapped more than a little heatedly.

“Aye, aye Captain,” a familiar voice echoed in his ears.

“Nori?” he gasped in disbelief. “Noriana Andrews… what the hell are you doing out there? You’re supposed to be…”

“Sitting on my ass while our ship is under attack? Not me,” she replied. “Besides, these guys aren’t half as spicy as their appearance would have you believe. Their weapons have no independent guidance – they’re point and shoot desperados… just ducks in our pond.”

“But you’re… pregnant,” said Kaufield simply, completely ignoring the expression on Mary’s face as she pretended not to notice his. “The G-forces generated by a fighter in flight…”

“…Are not all that bad when you’re the go-to gal. The boys are setting me up and I’m knockin’ ‘em down. There’s really been no G-forces for young junior to experience so far,” she replied. “Except for that launch tube thing, I guess. Trust me, a mother can tell… Junior didn’t mind.”

“There are only two enemy fighters left, Captain, and I’m on babysitting duty right next to her,” Walter said reassuringly. “The larger vessel is shooting at us, but it’s still trying to move into optimum range and they’re firing simple projectiles. With our advanced maneuverability their lack of electronic guidance is definitely showing.” He sounded a bit disappointed. “You said these guys have been fighting each other for how long?” he asked. “Their R & D must be nearly non-existent… they’re no match for rail guns.”

Kaufield said nothing, just glanced inquisitively across his work station toward Adam. The elder Roh thought for a moment before sharing his thoughts. “They may have been fighting each other for thousands of years, but consider their situation,” Adam suggested. “They are rogues, constantly on the move while trying to locate new planets and asteroids. In all probability they barely have time to set up shop and satisfy their resource needs before an enemy suddenly shows up to attack the sun and thereby deprive them of everything. Just keeping their equipment functioning and feeding the troops is probably their biggest challenge. Not exactly the type of environment you’d expect to find sophisticated electronic computer systems developed in.”

“Command, this is Shuttle Corona. The last troop transport is on the run. They know we’ve got them out-gunned and they’re running for their lives.”

“At the very least disable their Point-to-Point capabilities,” Kaufield ordered. “If they get desperate enough they may try and transit into the Pathfinder. We need to buy more time for Glen and Thomas to plot us an escape route.” He glanced at his Delta screen and noted the mother ship continuing its brazen approach. “That goes for you fighter hotshots also. Two of you take out the remaining fighters and the rest of you disable that big SOB. He may decide to transit right into us, too!”

“Would they really use that tactic?” Mary asked. “It’s unthinkably sinister…”

“We used it!” Kaufield snapped, a little too sharply. He turned and glanced apologetically at her. “Sorry LT… my nerves are completely frayed. Granted there weren’t any living people on that wreck of a ship we used against the Brotherhood but you never know what these guys will decide.” He shook his head. “They located us and attacked with their closest ship. I would be very pleasantly surprised if they don’t already have reinforcements on the way. I’m trying to think like them – my strategy in that role would be to disable us any way possible. That way their friends can find us and capture our new weapons and technology, which they’ll use to raise the stakes in their private little war.”

“You pilots watch yourselves,” Glen cautioned from his seat in the Lab wing. “The mother ship contains a very large power source. They may have weapons they haven’t shown us yet.”

“You think?” Nori replied sarcastically.

 

Out in the middle of the primary action, Walter ‘Lightning’ Douglas piloted his F-175 at top speed toward Nori’s distant signal. He was closely followed by the remaining two enemy fighters, both shooting wildly at him in an attempt to disable his engines. Despite the temptation to laugh at their lack of maneuverability he had not so far. It had been his experience that underestimating an opponent was the quickest way to die in battle. If they were shooting at you they could hit you, and in the end that was all that mattered, really.

He continued to spot occasional fluorescent traces of discharged bullets flying past his cockpit, so he knew that both fighters were in hot pursuit. Nori’s fighter was facing away from them and she was traveling a lot slower, allowing the three ships to catch up with her almost immediately. At the last second before he passed her he saw her maneuvering thrusters activate. The fighter instantly spun around to face the approaching enemy targets, its rail guns firing. Walt watched one of the enemy targets on his motion sensor console fragment and vanish. Five seconds later he spun his own ship around and shot down the remaining fighter.

“Pathfinder, this is Siren. All enemy fighters are down,” he heard Nori report with undisguised satisfaction.

“Commander of the Corona breaking in,” stated a new voice calmly. “The remaining transport cruiser has transited back to the mother vessel. I think they’re planning a new strategy.”

The ‘new strategy’ became immediately obvious as the monstrous mother ship fired up its engines and began moving forward. With its shuttle leading the way, both ships began shooting in unison as they continued their pursuit of the Pathfinder. The mother vessel had taken a series of missile hits from the other four attacking F-175s, but it had quickly shrugged them off and continued ominously forward, fires still burning from several of the targeted impact points. Rail gun fire from the Ranger, the second shuttle, slowed its progress some but not nearly enough to please Nori.

“They’re preparing to RAM,” Nori reported warily. “I don’t think they have PTP capability any longer but they’re faster than you are, Captain. It looks like they’re going to try and run you down.”

“Acknowledged,” Kaufield replied. “We’ve got six more fighters standing by for launch but I’m leaving them on hold status. Glen and Thomas have just sent a Canary Probe through a small PTP window to our emergency escape destination and they are reporting that everything is working fine. Your six fighters are cleared for immediate landing in our forward hangar bay. We’re getting the hell out of here as soon as you’re all aboard.”

“Captain, Lighting and I are in perfect position to intercept and we’ve both got a missile left. Request permission to confront the enemy…”

“Permission denied, Captain Andrews,” snapped Kaufield. “The Corona and the Ranger will provide covering fire until you land. Then they’ll use the hangar bay’s rear entrance to dock with us. We need all support ships aboard and secure before we can PTP so get your butts in gear.” There was a pause as Walter listened, and he used the opportunity to bring his fighter back alongside Nori’s. Ahead of them the other four F-175s had already passed in front of the Pathfinder and were turning to land. “Trust me, Nori,” the Captain said reassuringly. “I’m watching Thomas’ clock very closely.” Walter knew she was tempted to continue the attack but he also knew her, and thus the decision that she would inevitably make.

“Pathfinder hangar control, this is Siren. You’ve got two more F-175s ready to land, so get those other boys out of our way the instant they’re down.”

“Copy that... and welcome home, Captain.”

“Now that part has always bothered me,” Walt decided as both he and Nori also circled around in front of the Pathfinder and prepared to land. “If your rank is a Captain and his rank is also a Captain…”

“…How come I’m not a head honcho the same as him?” she guessed before frowning slightly. “Since you like reading, Walt, may I suggest that your next choice be the ‘Project Pathfinder Charter’ that was written several years ago,” she suggested. “I think you’ll find it quite complex and extremely boring. It specifically outlines the authority that each role we fill is entitled to while assigned to this project, regardless of previous rank.” She laughed uproariously. “I’m a Captain out here, with you. But inside that ship I’m just another average Joe.”

“Thomas, you’ve got exactly ninety-two seconds left,” Kaufield stated informatively, watching the enemy ships grow closer. “Then we have no choice but to transit whether the Canary Probe is back on our side of the window or not. Most of the larger ship’s forward guns are down, but they’ll still be able to damage us easily enough once our own shuttles cease fire.”

“Hold on tight,” the young scientist requested from his station down below. “The Canary Probe is scheduled to return in seventy-six seconds. That should beat your deadline.”

The remaining enemy troop transport had dropped back and was now trailing its mother ship, having taken heavy fire from the two combat shuttles. Both the Ranger and the Corona were easing slowly into the Pathfinder’s rear hangar bay, their rail guns continuing to shoot until the very last second at the pair of approaching targets. Hating every second of the seemingly endless wait, Kaufield tapped the pen he was holding repeatedly on his Delta laptop – the dark mass of the monstrous enemy ship was so very large now on their overhead monitors and growing closer with each passing second. Mary reached over and calmly took the pen away from him. The attempt to cheer him up failed as he continued to watch the seconds tick by.

“That’s it, Thomas,” he said into the Comm-link. “I can’t wait any longer…”

“As promised!” he heard the younger Roh shout from somewhere down in the Lab wing. “Here it comes!”

The Canary Probe roared out of the open PTP window beneath the Pathfinder at nearly 100 kilometers per second. It adjusted its course only slightly, since the enemy ship was now so close there was virtually no way to miss it. Thomas kept his work station’s remote control crosshairs firmly planted on the bottom of the mother ship’s hull – and the vehicle-sized device impacted firmly into it dead center. Although it contained no explosives, the mass of the Canary Probe was extremely sizable and – combined with its high velocity – it proved to be a very effective, unexpected weapon against the hostile enemy.

“They wanted to ram us… we just beat them to the punch,” Kaufield said darkly as the enemy vessel veered awkwardly away from them, now critically damaged. The remains of the Canary probe emerged from the top of the ship in a glowing comet-like tail of fire. The hulking mother ship flashed harmlessly by above them as Adam fired their dorsal thrusters and sent the Pathfinder plunging down and away from it. They had no chance to witness anything further as Glen quickly expanded the PTP window beneath them so that it surrounded their own starship. In a flash of victory, they vanished, leaving behind four ships – one large and three small – burning brightly in space.

*     * * *     *

Down in the Lab wing Glen verified that their arrival point was correct, then pushed his chair back from his desk and sighed with a relieved sigh. He put his head into his hands and then wiped sweat from his brow as he continued to breathe deeply for a precious moment. The room erupted with a roar of spontaneous applause from the staff surrounding them – all of whom had been furiously working alongside them throughout the battle. Glen glanced over at Thomas and couldn’t help but laugh at the triumphant expression on the kid’s face.

“You are one smart boy, Thomas,” he said. “Did you know that? If those guys had managed to board the Pathfinder we would have had a serious disaster on our hands.”

“What can I say?” Thomas replied jubilantly, smiling from ear to ear through his freckles. “Not only am I charming and charismatic, but I’m intelligent, too. My only flaw is that I don’t handle extreme stress very well.” Coming from someone else such a statement would have sounded arrogant. From Thomas Roh it sounded just plain hilarious.

“That was about as extreme as things can get and you did just fine,” Glen pointed out.

“The time off has done me a lot of good,” grinned Thomas. “After all, I’ve been lying on my couch for the past couple of weeks with a purring cat sitting on top of my chest. You have no idea how much negative energy that can purge!” He paused to listen as the Captain activated the ship’s all-call system.

“Everyone can stand down from General Quarters,” Kaufield stated. “But all on duty officers and pilots should remain at high alert, since the enemy has demonstrated the ability to track us through transit. I doubt they can follow us through a 1,000 light year leap, but you never can tell…” Finished, he let the overhead speakers go quiet.

“That’s another thing that has been bugging me,” Thomas said, raising his right index finger for emphasis. Swiftly, he punched up a number on his Comm-link and waited until he heard the Captain’s voice.

“Great job down there, guys and gals. You saved the ship!”

“Thanks, Captain,” said Glen. “You should have seen Thomas roar in here right in the middle of everything. He showed up barking orders and never let up until we were safe.”

“Captain, about that PTP thing you just mentioned,” Thomas said enthusiastically. “I don’t think the enemy can track us through transit… Adam is incorrect on that one particular detail.” He paused for a moment and laughed when he heard his brother’s astonished voice.

“I am? They can’t?”

“No, they can’t,” Thomas said confidently. “Right before I came down here I was monitoring all of the communications channels, including the telemetry from Dashboard’s shuttle patrol.” He flashed Glen a quick smile. “Since everything hit the fan as soon as they returned from their scouting patrol, it sure seemed that the enemy could track us at the time. I know your command team hasn’t had a chance to talk to the pilots yet or analyze the recorded telemetry since you were all so busy defending the ship.”

“Okay… you’ve got me curious. How did they find us?” Kaufield asked. “I hope you’re not suggesting that they just showed up at such an opportune time by random chance?”

“No they didn’t,” Thomas agreed. “But I think Dashboard will be the first to tell you that there’s a hidden passive communications station on that blasted out planet we were sitting next to. It detected our presence, waited until the planet orbited away from us and then sent a quick data burst with our coordinates through a tiny PTP window. So we know they do have that tactical capability, at least – even if their weapons and guidance systems basically suck.”

“We’re very fortunate that their guidance systems ‘suck’ and that we got away,” decided Kaufield. “I also think we proved our theory that there’s an all-out war going on in that region, and can definitely log the location into the computer catalogue as very dangerous and off-limits for future visits.”

“I would appreciate it if you would,” Glen decided, wiping more sweat from his forehead. His comment started Thomas and the other members of the Laboratory staff laughing, cheering and applauding all over again. He waited until the noise died down and then cautiously asked “How much damage did we take?”

“Very little,” Dennis reported. “As I said we were extremely lucky. Jeff reported in to let us know a few stray shots hit the Garden and Livestock wings but they didn’t penetrate the inner shielding. As soon as we verify this spot as quiet, Mad Dog will have a crew out on EVA duty to patch up the holes.”

“Well, we’ve got five magnetic grapplers hanging on our side of the ship with their severed cables dangling,” Glen commented. “I’d really appreciate it if you’d have the EVA crew remove those for us, too!”

“I’ll have them add that to their list,” Kaufield said. “I have one last question for Thomas. Your brother up here is confident that the ‘universe diagram’ transmission we received was not sent to us by any of the factions in that war zone we just left. Would you agree with that?”

“Absolutely I agree with him,” decided Thomas. “The ship that came after us was a dreadnought in the finest tradition of our original naval sailing vessels. I would speculate that their typical strategy is to board their target like they tried to do with us. If they can’t their next effort is to pull alongside their enemy and open fire with all weapons at point blank range in the same manner that our old ships did. If guns fail, their last resort is to try and ram. The winner in that type of all-out cannon battle is the one that doesn’t sink.”

“I wouldn’t exactly define that as winning,” the Captain replied. “But it is nice to know that the mystery transmission was sent to us by somebody else – hopefully a very friendly somebody else. Julie also agrees that the war zone combatants are a definite no. So you can expect that we will call for another Council meeting soon and decide where we’re going to travel to next. For now, I think we should let the deck four passengers return to their quarters and give everyone on board a chance to catch their breath.”

“That sounds fine with us,” said Thomas, shutting off the Comm-link. He was totally caught by surprise as Glen got to his feet and hugged him gratefully. “Thanks for your help kid. It’s great to have you back.”

“Oh I’m not back on a permanent basis. I still have to drop by the Observatory now and then,” Thomas said, grinning. “They have a really cute brunette girl over there, and I think she really likes me. That kind of unexpected surprise never happened around here, you know.”

Glen laughed out loud and lightly whacked Thomas on the shoulder with the back of his hand. Both of the marines standing next to the hatchway removed their helmets and came over to shake Thomas’ hand. “I’ve never seen anybody run as fast as you did kid,” one of them said. “I’m Private Michaels and it’s great to know you.”

“Where did you learn to run like that?” asked Jacobs, his partner.

“In school, where do you think?” Thomas said. “Kids like me have to be fast or they get beat up by really big guys like you.” Jacobs grinned and rubbed Thomas’ head, severely ruffling his hair. Everybody continued laughing as their emotional pressure lessened even more.

Glen decided that it felt really great to be safe again.

16: XV: Dark Matters for Discussion

THE PATHFINDER PROJECT

Chapter XV: Dark Matters for Discussion

Dr. Karen Simmons smiled enthusiastically at her two patients. On one side of the room sat Patrick Warren, their captured Brotherhood spy. Warren tentatively held a piece of white sterile gauze to his nose to verify that her attempts to stop the bleeding had worked. He looked very embarrassed and understandably so, since this was now the fifth violent incident he had been involved in. He sat casually in the center of her Medical Ward still wearing his restaurant uniform and bus-boy apron. He pointedly refused to look directly at the person seated opposite him, completely ignoring the man’s hate-filled stare.

Karen carefully checked the bruised left eye of her second patient, Jack Dandridge. He continued glaring at Warren as she carefully verified that none of his cheek bones had been broken in the earlier scuffle between the two men. Unlike Warren, Dandridge was still fuming and red-faced, looking ready to continue his part of the fight at the slightest provocation. The deterrent currently keeping him in check stood firmly near the room’s exit… both men wore marine uniforms and looked very annoyed at this latest disruption to ship’s security.

“Why don’t you try and settle down, Mr. Dandridge,” Karen suggested. “I don’t think anything is broken, but you’ll have to deal with the pain for a day or two until the bruise on your eye begins to heal.”

“Can’t you give me something for the pain?” Dandridge asked unpleasantly.

“Oh, I think a tough guy like you can take a little discomfort,” she replied nonchalantly. “Or you wouldn’t be starting fights, now would you?” She carefully touched a fresh, cold cloth to the darkening bluish-black bruise under his eye and he flinched.

“You’re a member of our new Council,” growled Dandridge. “So this is as much your fault as anyone. You’re supposed to be leading us and yet you allow a known enemy to walk freely among us.”

“He is not a free man, Mr. Dandridge,” Karen said. “And he has you for a neighbor. From your attitude I would guess that means he’s under a careful neighborhood watch… whenever you’re at home, anyway.”

“Are you mocking me?” he snarled.

“No,” she replied with a smile. “I’m not mocking you… or your faith.” He flinched again, this time at her remark and not from the injury.

“What do you know about my faith?” he demanded.

“Oh, a lot actually,” she commented. “You’ve been telling everyone on the ship what a deeply religious person you are and how your God is great and everyone else’s is false. There are only 897 people aboard, so word gets around… especially when you make your points so often and so loudly.” He started to say something but one look from her quieted him. “Me,” she continued, “I’m a healer, so I spend most of my time listening to people. Life and experience have both taught me that you can get a much better sense of just who a person is by what he does as opposed to what he says he does.”

“Oh really?” Dandridge said snidely.

“That’s right,” she said, carefully placing a large gauze bandage over his eye. “I checked my work station when you were brought in. This is your tenth trip to our Medical Ward in the two months that we’ve been out in space.” She glanced quickly at the information on her console. “Headaches, upset stomach, lower back pain from hauling the heavy equipment in the hangar bay, etc. etc.”

“It’s a really tough job down there, especially when we were bringing all that mineral rock aboard.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” Karen said. “But there are dozens of other people working right alongside you and I haven’t had a single visit from any of them.” She grabbed him firmly by the chin and glared into his good eye. “That tells me you like taking full advantage of the free health care offered on board this ship. Your loud-mouthed complaining about other peoples’ faith tells me that you’re insecure about your own. And… your claim to be a devout religious person tends to fall a little flat when you’re brought in here injured because you tried to start a fight in a restaurant with one of your peers.”

“He’s a member of that Brotherhood!” Dandridge said, pointing at the man sitting quietly across from him. “His people annihilated ours. For God’s sake, how can you…”

“I’m a member of the new Council, remember?” she pointed out, letting go of his chin. “That means I’m someone who can and will bear witness against you for unprovoked, aggravated assault should this incident go to a trial.”

“Oh, come on!” he protested. “You can’t seriously be saying that this murderer has the same rights as everybody else?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” said Dr. Simmons, looking very angry herself. “The Captain has ordered that rule of law will prevail on this ship. The Council and I freely voted to offer a partial pardon to this man in exchange for his future good behavior. He has also generously agreed to stop by now and then so that I can study him and learn more about the mysterious culture he comes from.”

“He is not my peer!” Dandridge screamed.

“According to my tests, he is,” said Karen. “He’s a man in much better shape than you are, by the way.” She glanced over at Warren and gestured for him to stand up. “Patrick, will you please repeat the strength test that you demonstrated for me yesterday morning?”

Warren had been sitting quietly minding his own business. He looked at her hesitantly and said, “Are you sure? I don’t exactly see what that will prove?”

“Go ahead and show us,” Dr. Simmons insisted. “We have plenty of furniture here on board the Pathfinder.”

Warren shrugged and stood up. He walked over to the back of the room and tipped over one of the heavy wooden tables set along the back wall. A few scattered papers, pens, and clipboards on the table’s surface slid and fell to the floor as he did so. Patrick firmly grabbed one of the table legs – the cylinder of wood was at least 3 inches thick – and pulled it effortlessly loose. Dandridge and both marines watched in astonishment as the cloned human carefully held up the heavy piece of wood and snapped it in half as easily as most people would break a pretzel stick. He continued by snapping the table leg into neat, 12 inch lengths and finished his demonstration by taking one of the 12 inch pieces and also breaking it cleanly down the middle. He dropped the two pieces he was holding onto the floor and silently returned to his seat.

Karen turned back to Dandridge and noted his terrified expression. “The next time you decide to pick a fight with Mr. Warren, you might want to remember this little incident. He may not be able to control his emotions and may seriously injure you.” She pointed to the door. “We’re all done, Mr. Dandridge. If you put a clean bandage on your eye tomorrow morning, I’m pretty sure you’ll live.” He paused to glare with hostility at her this time. “I’d change that bad attitude of yours, and fast,” she suggested, noticing his rage. “Uncontrolled hatred is going to get you into major trouble on this ship.” She watched him walk out of the room and then quietly returned her attention to Warren.

“I’m okay,” he insisted, tossing the gauze from his nose into a wastebasket. “Really, Doctor, the bleeding has stopped so I’d better get back to work. I promised the Captain…”

“Your promise was to the Council,” she corrected him, easing him back into his seat. “And I seem to have to keep pointing out to people that I’m a member of it.” She turned toward the marine guards. “Please, wait outside. My patient has a right to confidentiality.”

“Yes, ma’am… just call if you need us,” one of them said as both men left the room.

“I’m all right, really,” Warren insisted, a little too heatedly for her taste. She reached over to activate a portable tape recorder and set it on the table next to her. Patrick looked at her a bit defiantly. “Are you going to do some more MRIs and X-Rays, or do I get a day off?”

“I know the Mirzion supplements we’ve issued have stopped most of the hallucinations people have been having,” she said, completely ignoring his sarcasm. “How about your dreams – have they stopped also?”

“Most of them,” he replied. “The nightmares, at least.”

She sat quietly, unsure of what to say next. “Patrick, what your people did…”.

“What my people did was wrong,” he said. “I know that now, but I wasn’t privy to a whole lot of the ‘master plan’ during my time on Earth. And if I had known that nuclear war was the end game, I sincerely might have tried to do something about it. That’s what no one on this ship can possibly understand unless they’ve lived in the Brotherhood and experienced it for themselves. Some of my people have some very sinister ideas about our society and its right to control Earth, Doctor. Others don’t.”

“Why don’t those others protest?”

“My people speak with a unified voice,” he replied, looking down at the floor. “Both you and the Captain know at least part of my secret now, but you haven’t seen our system actually function. The Triumvirate wants the human clones to feel and experience emotion… they monitor it very carefully, studying and processing it as raw data. We are evaluated regularly as we mature and taught to reject the feelings that don’t suit the Triumvirate’s purposes. What you call love, happiness, and compassion are simply emotional states that it can use to tempt us. Then we gradually learn how to use those emotions as tools to ensnare other people holding key positions.”

 “You still could have voiced your opinion,” the Doctor insisted. “As could others.”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “Like I said, you haven’t seen the process, Dr. Simmons.” He looked at the ceiling and his eyes filled with tears. “Many of us have tried to object to our tasks and assignments, even discussed it with each other. I’ve had conversations with fellow Brotherhood members – almost all of whom at some point took a moment to voice dissent or even simple doubts about our plans to infiltrate other nations so that we could extort or simply take from them. After speaking to those who disagreed I’ve literally seen them met by soldiers and taken away to be executed… the Triumvirate eavesdrops on everything. The only reason that I survived was due to my ‘top of the class’ ranking. They knew I was highly skilled, and that persistent efforts to manipulate my emotions would eventually pay off. I’m telling you, the Triumvirate observes the emotional process in its clones, studies it, and then works to shut it down in the same way you would when you turn off a faucet because you’ve got enough water in your sink.”

“That sounds very frightening, Patrick. You’re describing a complete lack of individual freedom and no personal rights.” She studied his expression carefully. “You’ve been preconditioned to serve the Brotherhood.”

“We look like humans, we are humans, but we aren’t allowed to be humans,” he said, and this time the tears came unchecked. He leaned forward in his chair, head in hands and sobbed uncontrollably for a moment while the Doctor patiently waited.

“That’s the part right there that your Triumvirate doesn’t understand yet,” she said. “The need for a human being to express emotion… even if it’s just to let the emotional baggage go to keep it from bottling up inside. And it scares me, because if your leaders ever figure out the part of the human equation they currently lack – that which makes us fully human – they will almost certainly discover that they have as little in common with you as they do with my people.”

“I have met all three of them. The Triumvirate believes itself to be infallible,” he told her, wiping tears from his eyes. “I can’t imagine what the reaction was for the people on that warship who were out-maneuvered and out-fought by your Captain, the Pathfinder and its crew.” He shook his head doubtfully. “Those who survived were very likely executed for incompetence.”

“That kind of reaction is probably very similar to the reaction a small child has when it first begins to learn that there is danger in the world and that it can be hurt. I would think that there would be denial, followed quickly by outrage and an emotional reaction such as you describe.”

“Yes, you would think that would be the case,” said Patrick, sniffing back tears and wiping his nose carefully with a tissue. “But their lack of compassion… it’s so different. They’ll simply file the information from that attack as flawed, study it, and attempt to come up with a solution to solve the problem the next time similar conditions present themselves.”

“Very efficient, almost computer-like in fact,” commented Karen. “That’s why the Captain chose not to stick around… we would eventually have been out-maneuvered.”

“Ah, but that’s the continuing problem they face,” Patrick chuckled. “Beings who respond to emotions do not react predictably. That’s been the toughest challenge the Triumvirate faces so far, trying to anticipate how all of you will react when forcibly confronted. The more of you there are, the less chance they have to predict the outcomes of those encounters. That’s why they worked secretly, behind the scenes, and attacked using stealth!”

“So the next logical move they would likely choose…” This time it was she who looked down at the floor and had to fight back tears, remembering those images they had all watched of the nuclear fires burning on Earth’s surface.

“That’s right,” he said. “Their choice was to avoid the confrontations and the unpredictability humanity offers altogether. Move by stealth, move by surprise, and before Earth’s nations even realized they were under attack… it’s all over and our dominance is guaranteed. I’m not surprised at all that nuclear war moved to the top of their priorities.”

 “Even if they don’t already, eventually the Triumvirate will see those of you who don’t completely obey as enemies, too.” Karen said softly. “And if people are led off and executed as you say, then to a point they already are treating you as adversaries.”

“We know it, and we have no choice but to obey. I was trained for several years and one of three separate cloning lines that infiltrated your society. Our central command knew that you were working on an enhanced Point-to-Point transit drive and they wanted to know more about it. That was my primary mission – to penetrate your command hierarchy and computer systems while stationed on the moon and capture the new technology. Our own culture has advanced at a tremendous rate, driven by slave labor capable of manufacturing heavy equipment like that warship. They wanted to merge your new technology with our own.” He began crying again. “Tell your Captain not to go back there… ever. You can’t stop them.”

“We can’t stop them yet,” Karen corrected him. “The data you’ve helped me collect has been very useful, and the Captain and I are very grateful for that.”

“I’m not a mindless, pre-programmed soldier any longer,” he said, wiping his eyes again. “This time the emotion isn’t shutting off… none of it. The remorse, the anguish of having to sit by helplessly while this unfolded, the guilty knowledge that that man… my neighbor… He was right about who I am and what the legacy of my people will become.”

“Do you think that you’re the only ones who know how to kill?” she asked. “Every society, every new culture in the history of the human race has started out by conquering other civilizations at one time or another,” she said. “Raid the castle and put everyone to the sword… that’s how it works until you either mature as a civilization and begin to learn that other peaceful options are possible or someone conquers you.”

“Now that your nations on Earth have fallen, our Triumvirate will do whatever it has to do to insure its own permanent dominance,” Patrick stated firmly. “Whatever it takes.”

“Sooner or later at least one of you will try and stop them,” she replied. “Then what? A new war begins… against the new, cloned lines of humans that it worked to create? It puts itself back at square one?” The thought seriously distressed her, and she brushed back a wave of graying hair. “So far the superior society your culture has tried to create has simply created a more efficient way of killing people faster than the old methods of using swords, spears and arrows.”

“So why show me mercy?” he asked. “There have to be a lot of people on this ship who wouldn’t lose a minute of sleep if the Captain had me executed.”

“Three reasons,” decided Karen. “First and foremost our culture does not execute living beings without first determining whether they personally are guilty of a capital crime. So far we have chosen to suspend the option for that trial because keeping you alive gives us the option to explore reasons two and three.” She carefully scribbled some quick notes on her legal pad. “The second reason is that this ‘Brotherhood’ and its line of clones is virtually unknown to us, so we naturally need to learn as much about you and your capabilities as possible. It’s quite probable that if enough of us survived we may choose to someday launch a counterattack.”

“I hope you do,” he said. “Murder is against God’s commandments… they… we… simply chose to ignore that particular one. And the Triumvirate regularly chooses to ignore God altogether.”

“Three,” she continued. “If there is ever to be a chance for peace between our people and yours it must begin with someone like you. I would imagine that you’re going to get a few more bumps and bruises before this is over but your willingness to cooperate and contribute positively to our efforts signals to the Captain that it’s worth his while to offer you the chance to redeem yourself. I just hope that you understand  that your access to the critical areas of this ship and its resources must remain limited until we can absolutely guarantee that any possibility of Brotherhood brainwashing has been completely purged from your mind.”

“Your people and this ship have purged me,” he countered, actually smiling for the first time in a long while. “The transceivers like the one found in my quarters can stay on permanently or  upload and download data in quick bursts as other Brotherhood agents passed by the moon aboard other space-going ships. The shorter transmissions, if detected, are carefully encrypted and designed to appear as random static. That connection which kept me informed, up to date and obedient was terminated the instant we left our home galaxy.” He shrugged. “A lifetime of training stuck with me for a while, like the urge to sabotage the ship by building a bomb. But once those hallucinations began they became so powerfully strong that I was overwhelmed with the emotions that had previously been repressed, and it didn’t take long before I realized my actions were now being driven by a feeling of revenge instead of a preconditioned obligation to obey. That was when your marines caught up to me, in the midst of my emotional confusion.”

“With emotional feelings you have options,” she said, smiling back at him. “You can give in to them and allow them to control your behavior…”

“Or not give in to them…” he decided, looking elatedly at her.

Dr. Simmons carefully took a few minutes to add to the notes she had been writing down as they talked. “Eventually I’m going to have you begin sessions with my colleague on board, Dr. Hagen,” she said. “He’s a trained psychiatrist, skilled in the psychology of the human mind and he will be able to help you deal with those emotions that continue to be triggered by things that you cannot go back and change. It will take time, but you’ll learn to live with them.”

“Without my conscience telling me that killing others is a bad idea and just having that feeling automatically shunted to a part of my brain where I can’t feel it anymore?”

“Exactly like that,” she said. “But we won’t schedule any sessions with him until I think you’re ready. Right now you’re continually experiencing the full onslaught of all-out human emotion and that is quite simply the best experience for you right now. You could have killed Mr. Dandridge, or any of the others that attacked you, very easily but you didn’t. You’ve put up with a great deal of harassment.”

“Because I chose not to give in to strong emotion,” he said, smiling at her again. “Because I allowed my conscience to decide the difference between right and wrong and restrained myself.”

“Correct,” she said. “But I’m glad you pasted that loudmouth at least one decent shot. You do have a right to defend yourself when attacked, you know.”

“I know,” grinned Patrick, pointing to some of the other cuts and bruises on his face. “I’ve been getting lots of practice at that, lately.”

They both laughed for a moment. “Humor is a very positive sign,” Karen said, carefully placing her pad and pen on the table next to her. “I’ve been using my own judgment as to which parts of our conversation the Captain and others need to hear about,” she continued. “No one else but you on this ship can possibly understand what you’re going through, so I’ll do my best to respect your right to privacy where possible. But I’d like to warn you up front that it may not always be possible in all of the situations that we will address. I want to save my people from further attacks by yours as much as everybody else on this ship does.”

He nodded in acknowledgment. “I appreciate the up-front warning, Doctor.”

“I also want to explore on a personal basis just how far this ‘programmed’ part of you goes. The type of preconditioning that you have talked about suggest that there could be time delayed commands within you that can ‘snap you back’ – as you put it – without your foreknowledge. So that will be the topic of our next conversation. Are programmed responses now permanently a part of your thought process?” She leaned forward with a very sincere expression of concern on her face and turned off the tape recorder. “Okay,” she said. “That’s what we will discuss next time. Right now I want to hear some more about the dreams that you’re still having, Patrick…”

Dr. Simmons was still working later that day when the Captain stopped by. She pushed aside the microscope she had been using along with its sample of the bacterial infection that was still causing occasional hallucinations among the crew. Kaufield looked tired but in control, and she was glad that he had accepted her offer to stop by for a few minutes to visit. She handed him the cassette tape of her latest interview with Patrick Warren and he tucked it into his shirt pocket.

“Have you apologized to Noriana yet?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said. “It took me a week but I finally admitted that I don’t think the kid she’s carrying is more important to the survival of our people than she is.” He sat down in one of the empty chairs. “It was a good apology too. She even hugged me.”

“Pregnant women are more likely to hug irritable Captains who say stupid things then… say… someone like me would be,” Karen suggested. “It’s the extra hormones and such…”

“Hey, we agreed that she was no longer commanding the fighter squadron until well after her kid is born,” said Dennis, looking at the Doctor with a little apprehension in his voice. “It’s too easy for a fighter to get picked off in battle – we would have lost two people.”

“She’s the toughest pilot on board and she wanted to assist in the effort to defend her ship,” Dr. Simmons said. “Both of you are right… that’s the way it is in life sometimes.”

“Can I go now?” he asked. “Or have you got an entire speech prepared?”

“Depends…” replied the Doctor. “You can tell me what’s really been bothering you or you can tell Dr. Hagen. I can schedule an appointment for you if you want.”

“What do you mean by that?” he asked. “What else would be bothering me?”

“He has two openings tomorrow morning and one in the afternoon.”

“The battle we fought last week, what else would it be?” Kaufield finally admitted. “It’s been eight days already and I still wake up at night after a good solid nightmare, sweating and shivering. Considering all that we’ve been through I expected that to be the very last of all the decisions I’ve made that would stick with me.”

“Do you have any ideas as to why that particular incident bothers you?”

“Because that battle included the first moral decision I made that I really feel deep down was an incorrect one.” He looked at her and smiled. “We received a lot of telemetry on that enemy mother ship right up until that final instant our Canary Probe rammed into it and we transited to a new location. All the numbers were right there on my Delta console. Speed, distance, time to impact… all of it. They weren’t going to collide with us before we could transit. I knew that but I ordered the collision anyway… because I was at that instant very angry and wanted to see those bastards who tried to take our ship suffer for their murderous behavior.” She noted the mixed emotions in the expression on his face with a bit of concern. “Technically we were trespassing in their territory,” he commented. “Although even if you don’t speak someone’s language there’s always the common sense option of firing a few warning shots. They wanted to capture the Pathfinder.”

“It would have been an irreversible disaster if this ship had been boarded,” Karen said softly. “A lot of people would have died and it’s very probable – according to a lot of the officers and not just you – that we would have lost the ship. Those alien people did everything they could to catch us by surprise and overwhelm us before we had time to react, so there are bound to be some strong emotions generated when the enemy shows that kind of contempt for other life. They were deliberately intimidating and you reacted to their posture instinctively.”

“Those people have been fighting each other like that for over forty-five thousand years,” Dennis pointed out. “They probably don’t even remember a time when they got along with their enemies. When you combine that kind of revelation with the surprise nuclear holocaust the Brotherhood unleashed on Earth, something inside of me finally snapped. I wanted to lash out and make a point to somebody – anybody – that we’re not just going to sit back and take beating after beating without fighting back.”

“But…”

“But we had lashed back and them. The maneuverability of our fighters and the rail guns on those shuttles totally caught them by surprise. We whacked them a good one,” he said.  “And then I murdered dozens, maybe hundreds more of those alien people, because I was sitting up there in the Command Dome really pissed off. I admit it, I judged them right there on the spot and appointed myself their executioner. Shouldn’t a starship Captain be above that?”

“You rely on your instincts during combat, just like any other officer,” Karen pointed out. “Did you read the intelligence report on the Canary Probe’s telemetry?”

“Of course I did. The power source in the mother ship was undoubtedly from one of those weapons they’ve been using against the stars in that wasteland of theirs. Destroying the ship probably saved an entire star system… at least until a replacement arrives to take its place.”

“Thanks for confiding in me,” she said. “As long as you’re talking these things over with someone and not keeping it all packed tightly away inside of you then there’s no need for me to recommend an appointment with Dr. Hagen. Everyone on this ship follows the same rules, remember? That’s what you told the Council.”

“I’m the Captain and I did say that,” he said. “During a time of such extreme challenges, anyone who trusts and relies solely on his own judgment will not last long in a leadership position. This is my ship, I’m proud of it and her crew and I plan to stick around.”

“Yes, and you’re also a flawed, emotional human being just like the rest of us. So go be one and don’t worry so much that your performance during this one crisis wasn’t perfect. That would be a bad example to set for Joseph. Forgive yourself and move on.” She paused, watching him stand up.

“I tell ya… it’s been one of those days already, Doc,” he said.

“For what it’s worth, Captain, I heard about the CAS Drive problems during the battle. Thomas said he pulled every trick he knew and then some to get it working again. That was a completely unexpected and unknown situation that he managed to resolve successfully during a time of crisis. But we have the benefit of hindsight. Even with all preliminary data indicating that our systems were back on-line and functional, I doubt that I would have risked the ship by assuming that we could transit away in time to avoid a collision. I would have rammed the Canary Probe into them too and I’m a Doctor, dedicated to saving and healing life. Sometimes there are simply tough choices that must be made in a command position such as yours. We support you Captain, because you are a good man and have worked so very hard to keep us all safe.”

“Thanks for telling me that,” he replied, pausing in the doorway. A look of curiosity flashed across his features and he pointed at the microscope. “Haven’t you found a permanent cure for that hallucinatory bacterial thing yet?”

“Nope,” said Dr. Simmons. “Haven’t you found a way to go back and reconquer Earth and get us our home back?”

“Touche,” he said, touching his forehead in a quick salute before vanishing out the door.

*     * * *     *

From:    Thomas Roh

To:         Captain Kaufield, Council Members, & Supporting Staff.

Subject:  Dark Matter and the problem it poses to the Pathfinder’s CAS Drive.

This E-Note memo has been written specifically to provide useful background information to the average crew member who is not familiar with the ins and outs of basic quantum mechanics and astrophysics. During our recent journey through the star-damaged wasteland, the Pathfinder’s CAS Drive was temporarily unable to function as it has so well for us the rest of the time during the two months we’ve been away from our home. This malfunction was due to the unexpected – and thus far unexplained – presence of higher than normal levels of “dark matter” in the vicinity of that particular Galaxy’s fourth spiral arm.

Dark matter is, by simplest definition, non-luminous (or invisible) material that is not normally detectable by conventional means such as the measurement of electromagnetic radiation.

Its presence is, however, a reality that we have confirmed by using non-conventional observational methods and through calculation parameters used to keep the artificial singularity powering our CAS Drive working in unison with our PTP transit system. Dark matter is normally completely undetectable to the casual observer – of which I am one. I have spent the past week working with both our Lab and Observatory staff in order to more accurately detect and catalogue this most fascinating material that comprises the largest part of all mass within our universe.

Our home galaxy rotates faster than it normally would based upon measurable gravity generated by stars, gaseous nebulae, and the other visible objects that comprise it. Using that as a basis for exploration our ancestors back on Earth were able to theorize and prove the existence of a super-massive black hole – or gravity whirlpool – at the center of the Milky Way around which the spiral arms rotate. Matter (like our home solar system) spinning fast enough to avoid being pulled in by the gravitational turbulence at its center maintains a stable orbit around the outer event horizon and comprises the stars in the spiral arms just as we have observed them over the past two months. The remaining matter and light energy, the stuff that’s not so lucky, is relentlessly pulled in and devoured by the black hole.

In recent years our Observatory specialists have confirmed that virtually every galaxy in the universe has one of these super-massive black holes at its center. The size of each varies in direct proportion to the size and amount of stars contained within its star cluster. It was initially very difficult to confirm the presence of black holes in our universe since everything (including visible and non-visible light energy) is sucked into its correspondingly huge gravity well. Black holes solve one piece of the dark matter puzzle – with their existence verified we have found the source of at least some of the extra gravity causing the galaxy clusters to spin faster than they normally would were they composed of visible, detectable matter alone. Many astronomers now believe that over 90 percent of the matter in a typical galaxy is completely invisible using conventional observatory and detection equipment. Obviously, that which we cannot see using normal methods is one of the primary difficulties we face when trying to correctly calibrate the CAS system and keep its reactions to unpredictable gravity fluctuations under control.

Recently the Pathfinder visited the Centaurus super-cluster. There are many of these “super-clusters” scattered throughout our universe, each of which contains hundreds (and sometimes thousands) of smaller galaxies. This was another key issue that bothered many of our early astronomy ancestors. They were repeatedly forced to address the question of why these gigantic clusters had not broken up into smaller galaxies – like so many others had – during the 14 billion year projected lifespan of our universe after the initial theorized Big-Bang.

The most reasonable conclusion that early scientists reached was that these “super-clusters” were held together by common gravity, just like the rest of our universe. Since they formed billions of years ago then it follows that more than 90 percent of the matter in a given “super-cluster” must be composed of dark matter. Otherwise, the gravity generated by the detectable objects in the clusters would not have been sufficient to hold them together for this length of time and they would surely have separated by now.

The most controversial of theories regarding “dark matter” is based on the inflationary Big-Bang model – the hypothesis that our universe is basically an expanding, spherical explosion that was initiated long ago. It is a commonly accepted explanation as to why galaxies fly apart as the matter contained within them cools unless they are close enough for their gravity to influence each other. This model asserts that the universe went through a period of rapid expansion while it was still very young, bringing the “cosmological constant” for this expansion close to one.

I won’t bore you with additional details that make no sense to people who do not study these theories as part of their career. But I will say that in order for the aforementioned constant to be near one, the total mass of the universe would have to be more than 100 times the amount of visible mass that appears to be present when using our telescopes and measuring equipment. All in all, I would go so far as to theorize that as much as 99 percent or more of the mass of our universe could arise from the presence of “dark matter”. Keep in mind that this is only one theory out of dozens that we’ve used to try and more closely identify and measure these invisible galactic objects.

Most people are familiar with the standard objects that we can see: (a) Yellow stars like our own sun, (b) Red giants that are cooler, (c) Blue giants that are in the last stages of their lifespan, (d) Gaseous and radioactive dust clouds (or nebulae) that are lit up by the radiation from dying suns, (e) tiny white dwarfs that are basically burning “coals” left over from the stellar campfire of their earlier life as stars, (f) Planets, moons and asteroids, etc. There are also two general manners in which a star will die when it finds itself at the end of its long lifespan.

The first way a sun dies is for the nuclear furnace at its center to begin breaking down as it runs out of fuel. The star collapses inward and begins to emit huge dust clouds that surround it and move outward. As the dust clouds continue to form, residual radiation from the still-burning sun continues to blaze outward and lights up these dust clouds – usually in a spectacular display of patterns and color. As a nebula forms and the star inside it dies, the building blocks for new stars continue to form. There are lots of larger nebulae scattered throughout the galaxies that have grown so massive that they are actually a galactic “manufacturing facility” with ideal conditions for new stars to form.

The second way a sun dies is to simply collapse and then explode in a huge surge of energy called a supernova. The starburst shockwave is usually visible from thousands of light years away – once the light travels to and finally reaches those faraway places at least. Regardless of which method a star uses to end its life, it usually continues collapsing inward upon itself, becoming smaller and smaller. Eventually many of these dead stars end up as white dwarves… which are essentially very dense and compact tiny versions of the original star. Because so much matter has been compressed into such a small galactic object, the typical white dwarf generally possesses a tremendous amount of gravity, but radiates a much less significant amount of solar radiation than the original star. Some of these are visible, but that depends directly on how far away they are and how small their size ends up after the inward collapse has completed.

Make no mistake – whether it’s neutrinos with mass, undetectable brown dwarfs, tiny unseen white dwarf stars, black holes, or some other type of exotic subatomic particles – dark matter does exist. It simply can’t be detected by the use of traditional telescopic equipment alone. A good example of this comes from the Pine Ridge Observatory back on Earth, whose study several years ago used light gathered from two galaxy clusters in a single telescope image. This light passed from one star cluster through another in the foreground of the picture. Through use of computer models of the foreground cluster and matching them to the way that it bent the light rays from the background cluster, scientists were able to accurately estimate the mass of the foreground cluster. The model that finally fit everything together showed conclusively that the cluster’s mass was about 250 times greater than the mass of its visible matter alone.

Dark matter exists, hence this brief science lesson to help bring everyone up to speed. Please note that the amount of dark matter that is present at any given location we travel to will directly affect the gravitational forces in the area and consequently our ability to keep the ship’s CAS Drive functional. I had initially speculated that the extra dark matter present in the vicinity of the wasteland galaxy could be by-products of or a direct result of the inhabitants of that region choosing to destroy entire stars on a massive scale. However, if that were the case then the gravitational waves surrounding our ship should have returned to normal when we transited to our current location BUT THEY DID NOT. This tells me that a very sizeable portion of the area we are currently journeying through contains a larger than normal amount of dark matter. I am extremely curious as to why this is happening and would like to specifically identify the cause.

I will continue working with the Observatory staff to come up with a plausible explanation for this phenomenon, since this unexplained situation could contribute to further difficulties in completing successful CAS transits. I also hope that you have found this memo informative and will use it to ask good questions at our next Council meeting, since I have added the dark matter issue to our agenda as an important subject for discussion. I look forward to seeing you there.

Sincerely,

Thomas J. Roh

Pathfinder Software Systems Specialist

17: XVI: Intelligent Debate

THE PATHFINDER PROJECT

Chapter XVI: Intelligent Debate

Adam was the last to arrive and quite pleased to discover that Thomas had reserved a seat for him. The Captain sat at the head of the main table with Mary and Glen to his right. Seated next to Glen was Thomas – he waved eagerly at his brother and motioned to the empty chair he had saved. Smirking, Adam walked over to the chair and patted his brother on the back, placed his briefcase on the table, and carefully took a seat.

“Nice memo Thomas,” he whispered to his brother.

“Thanks,” Thomas replied.

“Nice and long, anyway,” Adam smirked, ignoring the whack Thomas gave him. He continued to survey the room. Karen Simmons and Father Dixon sat across from them and he also recognized Colonel Neeland, Jeff Markham, and Kari Hansen. The other three faces were new – he had heard that the remaining three civilian members of the Council had recently been appointed but had missed the most recent orientation meeting which had been held just prior to the wasteland attack on the Pathfinder.

“Who switched the damn meeting to Observation Dome Two?” Adam quietly asked Colonel Neeland, who was seated to his right.

“We don’t know for certain, but it’s got something to do with the teachers on board. I think they’re meeting with some of the civilian ship authorities in the other Dome to request that more classroom space be made available or something,” said the Colonel softly. “That’s where the smart money is, anyway.”

“I was good friends with a teacher back on Earth,” commented Kari. “She was thinking of getting out of teaching but we all knew it was in her blood. Her name was Cassidy… Cassidy Freeling.” She frowned and took a sip of coffee. “Although it’s doubtful she survived, you can bet that if she did she’s surrounded by kids right now. That was her passion in life.”

“That’s the most difficult part for our people,” Father Dixon said softly. “Not knowing whether loved ones survived is almost as bad – or worse – than hearing for certain that they were casualties. I move that we start with a moment of silence for those lost family members and friends.” He nodded his head and everyone surrounding him followed suit. “May God be ever merciful with their souls,” he said finally, concluding the short prayer.

“Well…” said Kaufield, shoving a donut box down the table. “Everyone is here… finally. So I think we can get started.” He pointed at Adam and held up the coffee pot.

Adam waved him off. “I’ll just have ice water this morning – thanks anyway,” he decided, gesturing toward a pitcher sitting in front of him.

“According to my notes, Mr. Roh you weren’t present at the last meeting. Since Kari is here for the first time from the Observatory to fill in for Dr. Markham, I think we should start by giving our new members a chance to re-introduce themselves.” The three new people seated next to Kari nodded in response.

“My name is Anne Wilcox from passenger deck two,” said a young, fresh-faced woman with short blonde hair. She stood up and took a quick bow. “I’m the principal of Education on this ship…” she paused to cast an amused glance at Adam and Colonel Neeland. “The march toward educating our young people never stops, so the smart people will put their money on us getting our extra space.”

“You’ve already got Observation Dome One,” Adam whispered sarcastically. Next to him the Colonel did his very best to keep an emotionless expression on his face.

“If you want to get out of the classroom setting, bring the kids up to the Garden wing once in a while,” suggested Jeff. “We have lots of room in the fruit orchards, and at least once in a while they can go over to the Livestock wing and take a tour of the zoo.”

“Thank you, Jeff, I’ll mention that to my colleagues,” she said, writing the information down on her legal pad. “An ‘outdoor’ setting… those children could end up spoiled very fast.”

A second woman stood up, this one older with white hair. She had some wrinkles, her expression was friendly and she had a very intelligent air about her. “My name is Kayla Daniels,” she said. “I live on deck three and am the Administrator in charge of maintaining the public utilities on all four passenger decks.” She shook her head confidently. “If you’ve got a problem with oxygen, electricity, water, or waste disposal then we’re the people to see.”

 “It’s nice to meet you again,” Kaufield said, nodding to her as she sat down again. He looked to the third and final addition to the Council, a medium aged man with dark hair.

“My name is David Thushman,” the dark-haired newcomer said, his voice deep and gravelly. “I’m from deck four, and my team provides direct technical support for all of the electronic and mechanical equipment used aboard this ship. My staff can fix anything!”

“We know that,” Kaufield grinned, “Or we would certainly have found somebody else to shoulder that burden by now.” He nodded graciously. “Welcome again everybody; we’ve got a lot to discuss this morning.”

“Who begins?” Adam asked curiously as he took a large, chocolate iced donut from the box in front of him. He poured himself a glass of ice water from one of the pitchers on the table and looked expectantly at Dennis.

“You’ve got the donut box… you start,” Kaufield suggested.

Adam’s expression became slightly irritated. “I think we should give our new members a chance to express their interests and concerns,” he decided, shoving the box over to Anne. “How are things going for you? I’m curious to know what it’s like teaching children with so many new discoveries made each and every day. It must be pretty overwhelming.”

“Yes,” she replied. “I’ve already gotten some complaints from the parents. There’s been some concern about all of the constant discussion regarding stars and nebulae and the vastness of the galaxies and our universe. They’re worried that our kids may lose their spiritual connection to God.”

“How to best teach Intelligent Design in the classrooms,” Dennis commented. “Now there’s a tough nut to crack. We’ve been debating that issue back and forth on Earth for decades.” He grinned. “Back when Joseph and I were staying with his grandparents, I served for a while on the local P.T.A.” He shook his head with wonder. “There are some parents in our society who have some very strong opinions on that subject, and I think I personally met each and every one of them – on both sides of that particular issue!”

“Why so much concern?” Father Dixon queried. “I never understand that. It’s in our nature to be curious and explore and try to figure out things. I don’t see what that has to do with maintaining a strong moral character and a devotion to doing good deeds in our world.”

“I think some parents are naturally concerned that their children may learn to focus too much on the scientific nature of things and forget to include religion in their lives,” suggested Adam, shrugging. “After all, the things we discover in science are right there in front of us and provable – Intelligent Design, on the other hand, is the complete opposite.”

“Oh – is it truly the complete opposite?” Father Dixon asked. “There’s no room for gray area in your comparison of the two?”

Adam looked at him a little irritably but held his composure, although he noticeably became uncomfortable at being so sharply contradicted. “Okay,” he said in response. “Prove to me, Father Dixon, that the Intelligent Design of our universe is possible. Do something magic or… supernatural or… something.” He confidently leaned back in his chair and smiled at the Chaplain.

“Certainly,” Father Dixon said, smiling right back at him. He held his legal pad out over the room’s carpeted floor and dropped it. Everyone chuckled nervously as it fell and hit the floor. “Explain gravity to me.”

“I beg your pardon,” Adam said, confused.

“I mean it,” Dixon continued. “Every solid object in our universe has gravity… a simple attractive force which increases in strength as the size and density of an object increases.” He watched Adam continue to grow uncomfortable. “You can measure it and – if you have an object’s specifications regarding mass and density – you can predict how strong a gravity field it generates by comparing it to a similar object back on Earth.” The Chaplain waved a hand at the large conference room surrounding them. “You and your colleagues can even develop methods to simulate it in different levels on ships like this one, but you can’t explain what generates it or why all physical objects in our universe seem to have it.”

“Oh c’mon,” Adam said, his irritation becoming greater. “Gravity is a physical law of our universe. It is a constant that you learn to accept if you want to study astrophysics.”

“You just stated that science is ‘right there in front of us and provable’,” Dixon continued. “Show me how to generate real gravity. Demonstrate it to me right here and now with your provable science. Is it energy produced by burning a substance such as coal, or does every object in the universe simply have it – for no apparent reason?”

“Well, it’s in the design…” Adam started to say before catching himself. He abruptly trailed off, deep in thought.

The Chaplain smiled. “Did you just say ‘design’ my friend?”

“That’s…” Again the elder Roh hesitated.

“That’s a really solid, inexplicable point,” David chuckled, interrupting him before he could finish. “The Chaplain is right, too – every gravity generator on this ship merely simulates gravity – it does not and to my knowledge cannot – create it.”

“I like your example too, Father,” Thomas grinned, drawing an irritated scowl from his brother. “Using the simple example of gravity you’ve demonstrated that some parts of science are still beyond us and not immediately provable, while at the same time shown us what might actually constitute a spiritual act. Boggs-Higson research is still widely debated, even though they really think they’re onto something there.” He paused to think about the Chaplain’s action. “Why does your legal pad hit the floor when dropped? Can a physical law like gravity be considered magical or miraculous? Those are really excellent observations, Father.”

“Thank you,” the Chaplain said, nodding humbly and shooting a glance at Adam. “I read your memo.”

“Gravity is a physical law of our universe which we have learned to break by generating enough thrust in the opposite direction of its attraction. That’s how we attain orbit around a planet or a moon,” said Kaufield. “And the commandments we are given by God are moral laws of our universe, which we personally – each and every one of us – have the opportunity to choose or choose not to obey.”

“Back on Earth I once helped a man build himself a new home,” Father Dixon continued. “He was a poor but really impressive member of my Church who saved for years so that he could finally afford a new house for himself and his family. This man’s skills working with wood were truly unmatched. So we worked and we worked and some things would not be perfect and I would watch this man take extra pieces of leftover wood that most people would throw away. If we sawed too much off somewhere he could fill it in and cover it up so well that no one would ever notice. If we didn’t saw off enough he would re-measure the distances and shape everything just so and not stop until it looked as perfect as he could make it.”

“I’ll bet he ended up with a nice house,” Jeff spoke up. “My brother was the same way when he would build things. Me, I just slap everything together. That’s why they have me building barns in the Livestock wing!”

“Yes, but the work that this man and I did together truly enlightened me in brand new ways,” grinned Dixon happily. “I had always been taught that water and sunlight were our most precious resources and the reason that all life exists. Plants couldn’t grow without them and animal life couldn’t exist without the plants and the rest of the food chain. But watching my friend put the finishing touches on his new house was truly eye-opening for me.” He glanced around the table at everyone and smiled. “My first thought was of the coastal regions and their constant, unpredictable Earth quakes. What good does it do to make sure everything is perfectly aligned with the floor and then have the floor shift on you unexpectedly and tear everything apart? Then I thought of gravity in general. Without it you can still nail stuff together and secure it to the ground, but if you don’t everything would just float away. Even the surface soil that makes up the ground would probably dissolve away into space. Gravity is yet another truly remarkable reason why life here in our universe is possible.”

“There could still be life without gravity, but certainly not in the way we’re used to encountering it,” decided Dr. Simmons. “It would have to be something like the bacteria we found on the mineral rocks, or a life form capable of surviving for extended periods by floating in empty space.”

“That’s why I – a man of holy faith – am not afraid of what science discovers, proves or disproves,” Dixon said. “The intricate details that make up our universe continue to astonish us – and always seem to keep us wondering – no matter how much we manage to learn. Life is truly an incredible experience, to say the least.”

“So how has the feedback been from the parents on Pathfinder?” Kaufield asked, pointing at the donut box still sitting in front of Anne. Do they think you’re teaching too much or too little regarding Intelligent Design?”

“Primarily they’re concerned that we are not teaching enough,” she replied after pausing for a moment to carefully consider the matter. “Traditionally it has always been our policy to focus primarily on the sciences of life. Most parents – back in America anyway – would already have a Church picked out for their children to attend. Some would even take the spiritual side of their development a step further by enrolling them in a private school that focused on a solid, religious doctrine. But we don’t have that option here on the ship, and that’s why we’ve been trying to convince the parents that they may have to be willing to step forward and play a stronger role in the spiritual development of their children.”

“And then there are those people who don’t want anything spiritual taught in the classroom,” Adam said. “Atheism is almost a religion unto itself – certainly it qualifies as a belief system. I never gave the issue a thought one way or the other until Noriana became pregnant. Since I’m going to be a Dad I guess I’m going to have to start paying more attention to these types of things.”

“I’ve always believed that it is a parent’s right – if not an obligation – to teach and pass on their religious beliefs to their children,” commented Mary. “Some parents decide to expose their children to spirituality and then let them make up their own minds while others have a very specific role picked out for them right from the year that they’re born.”

“We may end up adding an optional class or two to the curriculum and then let the parents choose whether or not they want their kids to attend,” Kaufield speculated. “But I think that teaching Intelligent Design and the sciences side by side at this time would be a mistake. When Elizabeth was alive we used to consider religion and our spirituality a very private, family affair – we didn’t want the schools meddling too much with Joseph’s belief system. We talked about it often enough even before we married because we wanted to make certain that our son got a really good look at Church objectives and learned firsthand how having faith can add to your character. Ultimately what he chooses to believe in as he grows up and matures into an adult is totally up to him, but we wanted to give him the opportunity to learn.”

“Enough about our classrooms and the educational curriculum,” Anne said. “We’ve got a good system in place; it’s just a matter of tweaking it here and there.” She grinned and shoved the donut box at Father Dixon.

“Oh no,” he replied, shaking his head back and forth quickly. “I’ve said more than I intended to already.” He shoved the box at Kayla. “You’ve been pretty quiet. What’s on your mind?”

“I’m fully locked into my listening mode. I want to know more about this dark matter thing,” she said, causing Adam to groan and lower his head into his hands. “Really,” she said. “We set out to explore the universe and it really sounds as though we’ve found something truly interesting. How close are we to peeking outside of it and finding out what’s beyond?”

“Some feel that there is no boundary… that our universe is infinite,” pointed out Glen.

“Now there’s a theory we’re about to disprove,” Thomas grinned eagerly.

“No really,” Glen asked. “If there is a boundary to our universe, then what would be on the other side of it?”

“A really big planet?” Colonel Neeland suggested, grinning from ear to ear. His comment sparked a series of nervous laughs around the table. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist.” He said as the room quieted back down.

“What we would call the overall cosmos, the larger universe, or an Omni-verse. The ‘universe diagram’ we received during that mystery transmission has us climbing the walls in the Observatory,” Kari noted. “Everyone’s excited at the possibility that our universe does have boundaries and that we may possibly get the opportunity to probe outside of it.”

“That diagram demonstrates a need to expand our definition of the word ‘universe’,” Kayla said, smiling. “Our own may have an outer boundary, but the space containing us and all those other Big-Bangs – how do we find the outer edge of that?”

“Do we want to?” Thomas asked. “Everybody always uses the cliché about the room with a million monkeys with a million typewriters. Given the option that they have an infinite amount of time to type, it has been theorized that at least one of them will eventually type a passage from our scriptures… or one of the classic novels from our greatest authors.”

“Eventually they may retype your memo,” Adam said sarcastically. Everyone laughed out loud at his joke and the tension in the room – which had begun to build – eased. Several people settled back in their chairs and took some time to reflect for a moment.

“I am trying to make a point,” Thomas insisted. “If the vastness of all of creation does have boundaries then infinite possibility becomes false. So that makes it a lot more difficult to believe that an unlikely series of events could eventually take place.”

“Meaning?” Adam asked, frustrated and curious as to his brother’s elusive point.

“Meaning that we sit here right now in Observation Dome Two,” continued Thomas. “And time has passed while we have held this morning discussion. So if we take the monkey cliché to a whole new level and the cosmos – multiple universes and all – is indeed infinite then there should also be a never ending series of chances out there that something with faster than light capability is on a direct, instantaneous collision course with this room and will hit us and destroy us all. And yet, here we sit, undamaged.” He smiled and tapped the table with his forefinger. “That type of example proves for me personally that the infinity theory has its limitations. We may not be able to see all the way to the end, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t one.”

“Even back on Earth we had already seen all the way to the end of our universe,” Kari pointed out. “Orbital telescopes like the Hubble were aligned and used in combination with our computer models in a series of experiments that we designed to define the amount of time that had passed since the initial Big-Bang. Often we left them focused on the same spot in the heavens for days just so that they could pick up some of the faintest light images that traveled to us from so far away so long ago. It was a spectacular way to literally ‘look back in time’ since that light traveled so slowly – limited by the maximum speed of  light – and was just then reaching us.” She smiled warmly at the memory. “In Astronomy there are very few exciting days – mostly a lot of boring ones. But it was certainly a really big day when we calculated 14 billion years since the initial Big Bang. One item that really had us ecstatic were the telescope images that revealed stars and baby galaxies were already forming as early as 13 billion years ago. So the traditional stellar objects have obviously been around for a while.”

“Now that we’re further out, have you been able to see farther?” wondered Colonel Neeland. He glanced curiously at Kari.

“Until this morning, that was an issue that concerned us,” she replied. “Up until now, we have traveled an estimated 62 percent of the journey needed to take us to the outer edge of our universe. We didn’t start in the exact center of the Big Bang, of course, but as we’ve traveled outward our astronomers expected to be able to see further – if not beyond – the outer event horizon of the universe. Instead we see the same thing that we did back on Earth – complete and utter darkness. If there’s anything visible beyond the perimeter it sure must be far away.”

“The mystery diagram transmitted to us is designed to fit on a standard 8 ½ x 11 inch piece of paper,” observed Kaufield. “So if there are many universe Big-Bang bubbles out there like our own they may be spread a lot thinner than the image we received indicates. Take this room for example and imagine two bubbles, one on each side. If you increase the scale to match our universe the distance between the two would be nearly incalculable.” He was about to say something additional, but stopped to look quizzically at Kari. “Did I hear you correctly? Did you just say ‘until this morning’?”

“Could I have a donut, please?” Kari asked, her downcast expression failing to conceal her excitement. Kayla nodded and slid the box over to her. Kari carefully picked out a cinnamon-covered long john and handed the box to Thomas. “I’ll let Thomas explain Poseidon to you,” she decided. “The discovery that we’re in the process of mapping is one of the most spectacular things I have ever personally witnessed. It’s the reason that Dr. Markham was unable to attend this morning. She’s got every telescope focused on this breakthrough – it could literally prove or disprove everything that we’ve already documented in all our years of gazing at the stars.”

Everyone at the table turned expectantly toward Thomas. He looked a bit startled. “What? Me?” He glanced back at Kari and she ignored him, carefully taking a bite of her donut.

“Yes, you!” Kaufield said, pointing at Thomas. “Enough with the theatrical melodrama, you two! What exactly is Poseidon?”

“Something that we probably never would have found from home,” Thomas said elatedly. “With such a large universe to survey, it’s too far out here to really discover and study from Earth. We’re really lucky we began our adventure in this particular direction.” He shrugged. “Of course, the steadily increasing levels of dark matter did make us curious, causing us to follow them like a trail of breadcrumbs.”

“What specifically is ‘too far out here’?” Glen demanded. He turned to the young scientist next to him and raised his eyebrows with unrestrained curiosity.

“We call it Poseidon, but basically it is the direct cause of the larger amounts of dark matter… well… larger amounts of all matter, actually… that we have been consistently running into as we move outward from our home galaxy. It is quite possibly the largest gravity well that has ever been discovered by modern science.”

“Like one of those super-massive black holes at the center of each galaxy that your memo talked about?” wondered Kayla.

“No, this one is a colossus in comparison – probably at least a billion light years or so from one edge of its event horizon to the other. It is a massive, cosmic phenomenon that is proving to be one of the most unique – and new – objects in astronomy that I personally have ever seen.”

“What could cause a black hole of that size to form?” asked a curious Kaufield.

“We don’t know for certain,” Kari said. “We’re not even sure yet if it qualifies as a black hole using our text book definition, but it certainly has the intense gravity of one.”

“It was first detectable shortly after we moved farther and farther away from the Centaurus super-cluster,” Thomas said. “I was working with the Observatory team when Dr. Markham’s staff found an area of space where galaxies, rogue stars, and other objects were actually moving toward each other instead of the ‘flying apart as if from a giant explosion’ standard by which we’ve come to know them.” Although he had advance knowledge of the newfound phenomena and had studied it for over a week, Thomas’ expression was still one of disbelief. “So she began intensely studying that area and we were able to solve the mystery of the extra dark matter that we discovered in the vicinity of the wasteland galaxy. The reason there is more dark matter as we travel outward is because there is more of everything here. It’s all being sucked together like a giant three-dimensional river twisting and turning through space and running directly at the gravitational source we’ve tentatively named Poseidon.”

“Twisting and turning?” Glen was listening closely, and he prompted them for more information.

“Yeah, because it’s competing with the gravity of everything around it, including the immense waves generated by huge super-clusters like Centaurus,” Thomas said, pausing to shake his head in disbelief. “But sooner or later it wins every battle, vacuuming everything surrounding it directly into its current.”

“That’s impossible,” Adam stated doubtfully. “If it’s a billion light years in diameter then our telescopes back on Earth – or even our exploratory vessels for that matter – would easily be able to find and detect it no matter where it is in our universe.” He sat back. “There’s no way that we couldn’t locate it from any of our home planets… even if it absorbs electromagnetic radiation such as light and is essentially invisible.”

Thomas smiled and folded his arms while Kari smirked and quietly took another bite from her donut. “I didn’t say it was in our universe, Adam.” He continued grinning as complete silence dominated the conference room for a moment or two.

“Whoa…” David said finally.

“Are you saying…?” Mary trailed off as she watched Thomas activate his laptop and project the image from his monitor onto one of the walls. He quickly put up an image of the ‘mystery transmission’ that had been sent to them from a source still unknown to them.

“The big blue universe bubble in the approximate center of the diagram is obviously ours,” he said, walking over to the wall and standing next to it. “Whoever sent the transmission confirmed that to us by using the yellow cube in the lower right of the picture to blow up and enhance the ‘local cluster of galaxies’ area that we originally began our journey from.” He held up his hands and helplessly waved them, uncertain as to how to explain the intent of the sender. “And we correctly interpreted all of the surrounding bubbles as other Big-Bangs in various stages of growth that form other universes. Having no way to verify without visiting them, we’re only speculating but pretty certain that they have physical laws very similar to our own. We base that assumption on the fact that they appear to be exactly the same as ours except for the time difference from their initial blast point. Some of them are younger versions of our own, while larger bubbles would be older as each explosion expands over the passage of time.” He began typing on his laptop but gestured to the diagram still projected on the wall. “It is a simple image, intended to convey a lot of information in an easy to understand format. But if you look real closely you’ll notice that all of the bubbles on this image are exactly the same…”

“…Except for that little red devil in the lower left area just below the outer edge of our universe,” Mary said, turning her head suddenly to gaze at Thomas with wonder. “They have it glowing… or something.”

“Exactly,” confirmed Thomas. “Somewhere just beyond the outer edge of our universe is a huge gravity well that measures at least a billion light years in diameter.” He shot a quick glance at Kaufield. “If you asked me to draw you a map of this thing, my sketch would look an awful lot like this picture.” He pointed at the image on the wall. “We call it Poseidon, and it has poked a huge arm of gravity into our universe that is directly affecting everything for at least a billion light years inside our universe. Its gradually diminishing effects reach much farther inside, as we noticed in the wasteland galaxy, but weaken very rapidly once it has to compete with the intense gravity of all the galaxies and super-clusters farther inside our bubble.”

“A river?” Anne asked cautiously. “Why did you call it a river?”

“A three-dimensional ‘river’ is the best way to describe it. That’s the way our computers model it based on our study so far. Poseidon uses a single ‘thin’ tendril of highly focused, intense gravity to probe the outer edge of our universe. If it were a standard black hole as we know them then it would instead be a huge swirling whirlpool of gravity absorbing everything surrounding it,” Thomas commented in reply. “That’s why we’re hesitant to officially call it a black hole. My guess is that those other bubbles on the diagram representing additional universes – if they truly are in those locations – probably have at least one or two of Poseidon’s gravity tendrils poking around inside of them as well.” He shrugged and sat back down.

“So everything – stars, galaxies, dark matter, whatever – anything that ends up caught in this huge wave of gravity that you call a river…” Kaufield said, sounding a bit shocked, “…is headed out of our universe?”

“That’s correct,” Kari confirmed. “Dr. Markham is currently down in the Observatory working as quickly as possible to map its size, speed, and course based on the movement of the galactic objects in the area. But that could prove very difficult in the long run because the tendril’s length spans so vast an area, eventually leaving the outer edge of our universe. We do have the capability to move the ship closer and get current information more quickly…”

“But the local environment in there might be dangerous enough to threaten the Pathfinder,” Kaufield guessed, sighing heavily.

“Its effects have already interfered with our CAS Drive once,” warned Thomas. “And we’re still pretty damn far from the outer edge of that blue bubble.”

“Do we explore farther or don’t we?” Kaufield asked rhetorically. “That’s an item we might have to ponder a bit, despite what Dr. Markham may be thinking.”

“So what’s the next step?” wondered Colonel Neeland.

“I don’t know about the rest of you, but I want to hear more – directly from the source,” the Captain decided. “Let’s take a twenty minute break. Kari, please contact Dr. Markham for me and request that she stop what she’s currently doing and join us up here. If she gives you any crap, make sure that you point out that this is not a request.”

“Aye sir,” she acknowledged.

The Captain nodded to the people surrounding him and slowly stood up, stretching his arms as he did so. “This Council stands in recess for twenty minutes,” he announced. Everyone acknowledged his agreement and then headed off to quickly check in with their staff.

*     * * *     *

They reconvened on time and Dr. Markham did indeed join them as the unofficial fourteenth member of their meeting. Glen moved to one side and quickly added an extra chair between him and Mary before motioning for her to sit. She did so, giving him a questioning once over as she noticed an empty donut box sitting on the table in front of her. Setting her notepad next to the box, Julie glanced at Thomas’ laptop diagram still projected on the wall.

“So…” she said curiously. “Do you like the baby we found on our doorstep?”

“No riddles, Doctor, just fill us in please,” the Captain said firmly.

“I am,” she insisted. “It’s a baby universe in the process of forming. The gravity well is huge right now because it’s busy grabbing whatever matter and energy it can from the neighboring universes surrounding it.”

“Then it isn’t a black hole…” Jeff queried from his seat across from her.

“Thank God no,” Dr. Markham replied. “If it were it would be draining a lot more of the matter from the universes around it. It’s a remarkable discovery… the largest gravity source that we’ve ever found. It is so huge and so intense that its gravity is forming large fingers that reach out and create huge rivers of matter flowing toward it. With the visible matter lighting it up, we can see exactly what is happening. This ‘tendril’ actually behaves more like lightning now more so than mere gravity. If it had manifested itself as a standard whirlpool there would be noticeable consequences in our universe within a couple of billion years or so. Using this method is allowing it to steal a little bit from each of the bubbles around it rather than grabbing everything. Truly it is a wonderful design.”

“There’s your magic, Adam,” Father Dixon said with a smirk. “Yet another physical law we can file away regarding gravity... one that defines creation itself. Once a gravity well gets large enough its astonishing forces rearrange themselves into lightning-like tendrils rather than a vortex. It’s taking just enough matter and energy to form a new universe… that is, if we understand your explanation correctly, Doctor.”

“You do,” she said, pointing to the image projected on the wall. “Right now the ‘baby universe’ looks very similar to the other bubbles on that diagram but that’s very deceptive. This one is shrinking rather than growing. Once it absorbs enough matter and energy it will condense even further, down to a size smaller than you can possibly imagine. And it will continue to grow both smaller and denser – relentlessly packing itself tighter and tighter until…”

“Boom,” Adam said softly. “A new universe is born.”

“Exactly,” Julie Confirmed. “But that will be a long wait in this case. The blessed event won’t occur for billions of years, at minimum.”

“How close can we get without endangering the Pathfinder?” Dr. Simmons asked. “Could we possibly PTP into this river just long enough to study it and then reengage the CAS Drive once we’re finished? It would be a remarkable achievement if we did so.”

“We’ll get as close as we’ll need to,” replied Julie to her medical colleague. “I want to chart this phenomenon. All of it.”

“Not with this ship you won’t,” Glen cautioned her. “The outer event horizon of this thing wreaked havoc with our systems and almost cost us our ship.”

“The adjustments that you and Thomas made have worked perfectly since we left the wasteland galaxy,” she commented. “It may be the nature of a machine to malfunction once in a while… but if it does you simply fix it.” She looked expectantly at the Captain. “We’ve traveled millions of light years already since that attack, growing closer and closer to the outer edge of our universe. You can’t seriously tell me we’re going to stop now.”

“The adjustments that Thomas and I have continued to make prior to each trip,” Glen pointed out, correcting Dr. Markham firmly. “Nothing is set in stone… it constantly changes… unpredictably.”

“We don’t have to stop,” Kaufield decided, “But we certainly should at least consider the option of picking a new direction to travel toward. He gestured toward Thomas’ projected diagram, studying the smaller red dot in particular. “There be dragons that way, Doctor.”

“Oh, c’mon Captain,” she said. “This is why we built the Pathfinder. It’s the unquestionable chance of a lifetime. Surely you’re not going to become a member of the ‘flat Earth’ society now…”

 “You can study it from a safe distance,” David pointed out from the other end of the table. “We can get close enough so that you can use the Observatory to document your findings without risking the ship.”

Next to him, Kayla nodded in agreement. “What about probing outside of our universe?” she said. “That’s always been considered and now that we’re growing close you’re going to have to make a decision on that one, Captain.”

“The decision on that one was already made a long time ago, Doctor,” Dennis replied. “Unless our Council unanimously agrees, we can send Canary Probes outside the boundary of our universe but there will be no risk to any of our crew by sending manned flights. Using shuttles or the Pathfinder is not an option.”

“Right now I’ll settle for getting as close to that river of gravity as possible. If it’s safe enough, I humbly request that you send a shuttle fully staffed with my scientists – if not this entire ship – into the center of it so we can float along and record our data.” Julie looked firmly at the Captain and then began hastily scribbling on her notepad. “I would like to ride along on that mission.”

“Glen, is it safe enough to do what she asks?” Captain Kaufield asked.

“A shuttle, maybe… you have the ultimate say as to what would be an acceptable risk. As you know, the Canary Probes and shuttles use a smaller version of the PTP window that we generate using the CAS Drive,” he said, giving the idea very careful consideration. “But they’re simply moving through the window we generate, then turning around and coming back through that same opening. If we move the Pathfinder in there…”

“Then we take the CAS systems into the center of a powerful, unpredictable river of gravity that could burn out our electronics – or worse – tear the ship apart,” Thomas said, sounding more serious than he had in a long time. “I do not recommend that at all, Captain.”

“Why?” Julie asked. “You can send a Canary first.”

“Because,” Thomas said, sounding a little hyper. “CAS stands for Controlled Artificial Singularity. Emphasis should definitely be placed on the word ‘controlled’ here, Dr. Markham.” He stood up and moved over to the image on the wall. “That’s the most unpredictable gravity source we’ve ever seen – I know because I heard you say it the other day in the Observatory. It’s pulling whole galaxies toward it and as they approach their gravity begins to compete with Poseidon’s. We have to be able to control the singularity we generate or it could easily turn into a huge bomb. That ‘Atomic Nightmare’ we found a while back pales in comparison to the scale of this new chaotic object you’ve discovered. This situation is as simple as letting a small kid play with matches. Don’t, or we’ll get burned!”

Dennis sat at the head of the table listening to the silence for a moment. Julie looked very frustrated, but he had anticipated that to be the case and so he was ready for it. “Glen, please describe the CAS technique for us, so that everyone understands what is involved here.”

Nodding, Fredericks stood up and softly cleared his throat. “CAS is basically an enhanced version of our Point-to-Point wormhole transit between two far away points,” he began. “Everyone knows we have a lengthy metal wand hooked to the bottom of the hangar deck with what looks like a small star burning at its tip, yet most people don’t know that the tube is hollow.”

“I’ve always wondered what it uses for fuel,” Anne grinned.

“Exactly. You may have noticed that the ship has periodically made a stop here and there at various nebulae as we travel outward,” Glen continued. “That’s because the nebulae can be found virtually anywhere, and they are usually a massive source of gas and dust used by nature to form new stars and planets. For our purposes they’re also basically a galactic fuel station – or unlimited supply of dust particles that we capture and use to power the CAS Drive.”

“There are huge storage tanks located under the Lab and Observatory wings,” Kaufield pointed out. “We stockpile the captured particles there and then run them through several filters to separate the radioactive and more dangerous matter from the rest. The stuff that poses a threat to the ship or its crew is spilled right back out into space. The rest is stored until it’s needed.”

“The CAS Drive is a miniaturized variation of traditional PTP transit,” said Glen informatively. “We carefully run particles of matter down through the center of the wand toward a tiny PTP window at its tip. The particles hit this modified field, which we continually monitor and keep perfectly calibrated, and are instantaneously destroyed rather than transported to a new location. The resulting annihilation of the matter creates the brilliant white singularity that everyone has become used to seeing. The result is a totally new form of nuclear fusion… kind of a distant cousin to the traditional reaction we see burning bright in stars everywhere. We are able to then utilize the intense energy produced to generate a large amount of electricity capable of powering the entire ship. Our standard PTP drive is still available, but its liquid fuel-powered systems are shut down. As long as the CAS Drive is on-line, the power for our PTP transits comes directly from the burning singularity on the tip of that wand beneath us and everything is controlled very carefully using the computer systems in our Lab wing.

“So,” Mary said slowly. “If we move the Pathfinder into a chaotic area of space with an unpredictable environment, it may be impossible to keep the singularity under control and useful as a power source.”

“Precisely,” Glen confirmed. “And that’s just a small part of the danger. If we lost control of the PTP-reaction we could also blow up the entire ship… into nice, tiny little glowing bits of debris.” He leaned back in his chair and thought very carefully for a moment. “Of course, we could use the CAS Drive to hop in close… to a safe distance. Then we could try using a standard, liquid fuel-powered transit to move us the rest of the way in.”

“And just how do we determine what is a safe distance?” Dennis asked, chuckling to himself. “We will move the ship close enough for the Observatory staff to take all the readings and measurements they like. If some of our pilots are brave enough to want to try approaching this thing in a CAS-driven shuttle I might even allow that. But we are not, under any circumstances, going to risk taking the Pathfinder into this giant river of gravity. That option is off the table right this moment, because there are quite simply too many things that could go wrong.” He frowned. “We may very well be the last group of humans alive in that big blue bubble,” he said, pointing to the wall projection. “Our mission plan defines our duty to explore, but it has also become a critical part of that mission to eventually find a place to settle down and raise kids. I don’t know about any of you, but I want that place to be as far away from this Poseidon thing as possible.”

“Transiting a shuttle close to or inside of Poseidon would be very dangerous to its crew,” Thomas commented. “Depending on how strong the gravity is – which we can measure with a Canary Probe – they could get dragged away from the PTP window that we create for them faster than their engines could compensate. We have to be very careful and remember that we’re sending these Probes and shuttles a lot farther than they could transit on their own. I’m sure the pilots would appreciate it if we could guarantee their safe return.”

“Agreed,” Captain Kaufield said firmly. “We almost lost the entire ship in the wasteland galaxy, due primarily to a little too much curiosity on my part. Whatever we decide to do in this case, we will take our time and make certain that we do it safely. I also advise everyone on the Council to vote with your intelligence and common sense. Leading with your heart is the surest way to get us into trouble out here.” He paused, watching Thomas turn off the wall projection and then his laptop. “Anyone who wishes to dissent and debate further may do so now without prejudice.”

Everyone sat quietly and watched Thomas putting away his equipment. Several people took a moment to jot down a few more notes but no one raised any objections.

“I don’t know about the rest of you,” Dr. Markham finally commented, “But I’d like to go back to my Observatory and continue studying this most remarkable find.”

“This Council hereby stands in recess,” Kaufield said, chuckling as he stood up and patted Julie fondly on the shoulder. “You can argue with Glen and Thomas as to how close we can get to this thing without damaging the ship. I trust them to stand up to you and speak their minds if they think their equipment will balk at us.”

“Thank you, Captain,” she said gratefully as everyone began chatting casually and gradually trotted back out into the corridors of the Pathfinder. “So much to explore, so little time…” she mused softly to herself.

18: XVII: Poseidon's Might

THE PATHFINDER PROJECT

Chapter XVII: Poseidon’s Might

Thomas thoughtfully reviewed the series of images on the work station in front of him. They showed a small cluster of ten stars and the colorfully illuminated nebulae surrounding them. He smiled and shook his head, then glanced up at Dr. Markham. “That’s really fine work,” he said. “Some of the best shots of galactic objects you’ve come up with yet.” Standing behind him near her desk in the Observatory wing, Julie smiled in agreement.

“Lots of the stellar material that Poseidon’s gravity is tugging at is your invisible dark matter,” she commented. “But I’ve been searching relentlessly for rogue stars and the smaller star clusters whose gravity Poseidon inevitably defeats. As they get pulled into his river of gravity their solar radiation is lighting up everything surrounding them.”

“Congratulations, Doctor,” said Thomas sincerely. “We’ve been at this for two weeks, and this is by far the best spot you’ve picked.”

Julie held up a piece of paper, both sides of which were covered with transit coordinates. “This is my master list,” she said delightedly. “So far we’ve traveled to about 50 out of 500 possible locations along the gravity river. Most of them were chosen by the computer, and every day it prints me a list of more and more potential viewing sites. I spend a lot of time manually reviewing everything in order to properly prioritize my top choices.”

“You could try delegating a little more to your staff,” he grinned, watching the frown on her face as he said the words. “Seriously,” he said, pointing to one of the images on his computer screen. “You’re getting spoiled with our new CAS systems. The width of the gravity river in front of the Pathfinder at this particular location is 127,112,000 light years. That’s a lot of territory to observe for a day or so before we continue onward – it would be an entire career for some astronomers back on Earth. Once we choose to move along, you simply pick your next target and we transit directly to it – whether it’s five light years away or 500 million. You’re absolutely spoiled, I tell you.”

“Just you wait,” she said. “We’ve only begun to scratch the surface as far as exploring this phenomenon goes.”

“At our last Council meeting we were talking about how some galaxies and star clusters defeat Poseidon’s gravity and how some lose the battle and are pulled in.” Thomas observed as he reviewed a series of new images recently photographed and processed by the ship’s telescopes. “At least when we’re sitting next to some of the brighter star clusters like these their light lets us see which ones are winning and losing that fight for survival.”

“That’s only part of the magic here,” Dr. Markham said with enthusiasm. “It’s like pouring glitter or colored dye into a glass of water and stirring it. Many members of my staff have received dedicated assignments to closely observe and map Poseidon’s gravity based upon the patterns present in this visible matter. We’re trying to chart at least part of its length and make a determination as to how predictably or unpredictably its gravitational ‘current’ changes over the passage of time.”

Thomas suddenly got a curious expression on his face. He leaned backwards, glancing at the image on her computer. “Hey… you updated the mystery transmission,” he noted.

“It wasn’t all that difficult,” the Doctor replied. “I analyzed the file in my quarters last night and discovered that it was compatible with our graphics software.” She looked at him with complete disbelief. “Whoever sent this continues to astonish me. They either used our software to draw the original image or they converted their own file to precisely match our compression technique.”

“So how do we determine if those other universes on the diagram are really there or not?”

“We have no way that I know of to find out,” said Julie. “Even the dark red gravity waves I added are just a guess… a representation that I’m using to help study the river of matter flowing out of our universe. They’re probably there in one form or another, but we have no way to measure or plot them accurately.”

“We never did discuss at our last Council meeting just how much damage Poseidon could cause over the long term. Does our discovery here pose a threat?”

“There’s no threat to your immediate safety, if that’s what you’re asking,” Dr. Markham said. “My estimate as to the number of galaxies in our universe is 100 billion. If you asked me for an additional estimate regarding the total number of stars I would have to say 1 billion trillion. We are stockpiled for the long haul, Thomas, so don’t worry about that. Poseidon is taking a lot of matter, but I would estimate that well over 99 percent of our universe will remain unaffected over the next 5 billion or so years. Once Poseidon’s gravity well collapses and explodes – which will take billions of years – it will simply form a new, expanding bubble. If the diagram sent to us is accurate then it appears the force of its Big-Bang actually pushes away the other bubbles surrounding it.”

“So while the gravity well is in the process of forming a new universe it continues to pull other universes closer and closer, stripping them of more and more matter and energy.”

“Correct,” Julie agreed. “The closer the universes get to Poseidon, the more quickly it can extract matter from them. I would imagine all of that gravity converging – combined with the eventual collapse of Poseidon – is what will actually trigger its Big Bang.”

“If that isn’t an Intelligent Design then what is?” Thomas asked curiously as he frowned slightly. “Do you suppose any of those universe bubbles floating around ever get close enough to overlap or collide with each other the way some of our galaxies do?” He pointed toward her updated image. “Look at those orange thingies.”

“It’s an interesting theory, but again we have no way that I know of to prove it,” she said, reaching over and ruffling his hair. “That is, unless you want to try something really drastic, such as transiting the Pathfinder out of our universe and into another one.”

“I have considered it,” Thomas said, causing her to raise her eyebrows. “Really,” he insisted, noting her doubtful expression. “It would cost us a lot of Canary Probes as we transit them farther and farther out of our universe. The normal physical laws that we know and rely upon here almost certainly wouldn’t exist between the bubbles. However, some of the other universes would have to be larger versions of our own and sooner or later one of the probes would emerge inside of one. We could then use the Canary’s telemetry to verify its coordinates and that would give us a fixed point of reference to work from when we send future probes.”

“Are you even sure the Point-to-Point wormhole technique would be able to traverse the void between universes?” Julie wondered. “After all, if physical laws don’t apply out there then it follows that a PTP transit would never actually complete… your Probes could fail to arrive at their intended destinations without your ever knowing what happened to them.”

“That’s the part I’m not sure about,” Thomas admitted, smoothing the hair on his head where she had rubbed it. “Glen and I haven’t worked up enough courage to ask the Captain about that one yet. We want to wait until we’ve found the leading edge of our own universe first before suggesting the option to him.”

“Thomas… don’t be in a hurry,” Julie suggested, waving a hand at the glittering view in the Observatory’s windows. “We’ve got enough here to study for years if we want to.  And we do want to. Considering how much time our astronomers have spent trying to find something new and fascinating you could say Poseidon is a remarkable achievement. We’re chomping at the bit to be able to study it in more detail, so don’t take us too far too fast, okay?”

He studied her reaction thoughtfully. “Well, that’s a complete reversal of your attitude at the meeting.”

“I’ve had additional time to think since then.”

“I’ve always thought that staring into a telescope for hours on end is really boring. If that’s what you want to do then it’s okay with me… I’m just glad that isn’t my job,” Thomas decided as Kari walked over to join them. He smiled warmly at her. “Hi hon,” he said casually as she wrapped an arm around his shoulder and hugged him. He watched Julie turn and look at him in amazement as he made the comment.

“You two sure are getting along well,” Dr. Markham decided. “Have you done it yet?”

“Doctor,” gasped an astonished Kari. “That’s private and you know it!”

“Well, you’ve always told me everything about your boyfriends before,” Julie laughed, watching Thomas’ facial expression quickly cycle through a dozen different shades of red. “Are you going to stop giving me all the delightful details now, simply because your main squeeze is our good friend Thomas? The two of us were just discussing boring science stuff anyway. Let’s hear something more fascinating.”

“Yes most assuredly the details will stop,” Kari emphasized, glancing reassuringly at Thomas. She kissed him chastely on the cheek.

“I’m thinking it might be time for me to go,” Thomas suggested, starting to get up out of his chair. Kari grabbed his shoulders and forced him back down.

“Don’t you let her make you feel uncomfortable,” Kari ordered. “The good Doctor as a general rule spends most of her time here in the Observatory, but when she does go back to her quarters you can bet her husband has a good time.”

This time Julie blushed… she picked up the nearest clipboard and gave Kari a quick whack on the shoulder. “I know, I know,” she said with a chuckle. “I’ve confided equal amounts of dirt to you over the years, myself.” She carefully placed the clipboard back on her desk. “Perhaps we can agree to respect each other’s privacy?”

“I think that would be a great idea, you dirty-minded woman,” Kari said cheerfully. She noticed that Thomas had his eyes closed tightly as he desperately tried to wish himself instantaneously to another location on board the Pathfinder. His attempt at psychic transportation naturally failed and he opened his eyes, still appearing, for the most part, extremely embarrassed.

A red light on the Comm-link next to Julie’s clipboard flashed red. “Dr. Markham, this is Jeff Mathison. I’m sitting up here in the Garden wing absolutely stumped at the moment. Thomas Roh wouldn’t be down there in your Observatory by any chance, would he?”

“Yes, I am most definitely here,” Thomas piped up loudly, instantly straightening in his chair. “Anything you need me to do just ask Jeff. I’ll be up there before you can blink twice.”

“Well it’s nothing serious at the moment but it is puzzling,” Jeff continued. “We’re trying to put the ‘B’ side of the Garden wing into Autumn mode, but for some reason I can’t fathom the ‘cooler weather’ subroutine isn’t kicking in to adjust the environmental controls.”

“It’s the same software that’s used to control the temperature on the ‘B’ side of the Livestock wing, isn’t it?” queried Thomas.

“That’s the puzzling part,” pointed out Jeff. “The Livestock wing switched automatically into ‘autumn’ mode early this morning – just like it was supposed to. There’s no reason we can find why the Garden wing shouldn’t have done the same thing. Could you please stop up for a moment and take a look at it? I was hoping to get out of here a little early this evening.”

“Give me ten minutes,” Thomas requested, grinning triumphantly at Dr. Markham. “I’ll have your problem fixed in no time.”

“Thanks… thanks a lot Thomas,” Jeff said gratefully. He signed off and the Comm-link’s red light dimmed back to normal.

“Can I come with you?” Kari asked curiously. “I haven’t been up there in a while and we can go for a romantic walk after you’re done.”

“Sure,” Thomas said, offering her his arm. “Come on along then. I’ll buy you an apple.” Every day brought at least half a dozen similar situations, all of which he would quickly rectify and earn a pat on the back from the folks that he helped. Either this wouldn’t work or that wouldn’t initialize or something wouldn’t start up properly. He had been typing on computers since middle school and learned his trade well – computers were his specialty. That was why he expected to find Jeff waiting for the two of them in the Garden wing…

…and was totally astonished to find almost the entire crew complement of the Pathfinder there. Hundreds of people – practically all of the passengers along with everyone not currently on duty – were standing in a large half circle in the ‘dance’ area where their Fourth of July celebration had been held.

“What the hell?” Thomas asked, stepping forward onto the gravel walking path with Kari right behind him. At the center of the semi-circle of people was a small stage area and podium behind which stood Captain Kaufield. As the two of them approached the entire crowd turned and began applauding. Kari grinned gleefully as Thomas again began blushing.

“This will be a brief ceremony,” Dennis said into his microphone as the applause and cheering subsided, “but a very important one. We have traveled far since leaving our home galaxy and endured much in the aftermath of the attack on Earth. That is why the command staff and I have decided to take a moment to honor two people who have sacrificed quite a bit in order for the rest of us to survive.”

Standing next to him, Mary stepped forward. “We would all very much appreciate it if Glen Fredericks and Thomas Roh would please join us up here,” she said, clapping as she took a step backward. A new round of applause filled the area.

“What’s going on?” Thomas asked, turning curiously to look at Kari.

She shrugged and let go of his hand. “Why don’t you go up there and find out?” she suggested, laughing with her perfect voice as she leaned over to kiss him. The applause increased substantially as she did so, and Thomas distinctly heard some familiar voices hooting and hollering in the background. He silently made a mental note to have a ‘chat’ with those people later. In the meantime he took his girlfriend in his arms and dipped her as he continued kissing her deeply. Then he searched the faces in the crowd until he found Glen – they both looked at each other and shook their heads in complete disbelief.

Accepting the inevitable, both he and Glen casually made their way through the cheering crowd and stepped up onto the platform. Thomas stared at Glen, completely astonished, and he could tell by his mentor’s expression that he too had not expected the reception. From the expression on Mary’s face it was perfectly clear that he had also been fooled by his fiancé.

“Captain…” Thomas started to say, but Dennis held up a hand. The crowd quieted as he turned his attention back to them.

“It is very safe to say that we would not be here if these two men had not motivated their staff and gotten our CAS Drive working while we were trapped in our home galaxy.” He gave them a quick salute. “But our recent encounter in the wasteland area tested them once again to the extreme by forcing both civilian scientists to temporarily function as soldiers in our military so that we could successfully repel our enemies. There’s no other way to acknowledge their effort other than to thank them very sincerely for saving our lives and the Pathfinder – not once, but on two occasions.” He saluted them again, more firmly this time and the entire crowd began applauding and cheering again. Thomas looked around at all the happy faces in disbelief as he stood next to Glen. Adam was standing at the front of the crowd with a noticeably pregnant Nori at his side. Both of them looked happier than he had ever seen them.

“For your commitment to excellence and bravery during combat conditions, both of you are today receiving a Silver Star,” Mary said cheerfully. She stepped forward and placed a pure white ribbon around both of their necks as they bowed their heads – both men glanced at each other, still flabbergasted. Thomas looked down at his chest, noting that the medallion hanging at the bottom of his ribbon was highly detailed and all around cool-looking. He turned the metal star over and over in his hand, admiring the simple weight and feel of it. Together he and Glen stood there amidst the applause and cheering for several minutes, until Kaufield finally stepped up to the microphone once more and motioned for silence.

“But we’re not quite done here yet,” he said. “One of these two men gets a second award.” Both Glen and Thomas looked at each other curiously as Colonel Murray, Corporal Henderson and his daughter Lucy walked up onto the stage. The little girl held a wrapped package and giggled gleefully as she handed it to Thomas.

Deciding to work the crowd a bit Thomas tucked the package underneath one arm as if to save it for later. Immediately people began hollering and cheering and he finally gave in and opened the gift. He held up a beautifully framed child’s picture that showed a donkey in the Garden wing eating apples off of one of the trees. There was a rainbow smeared in the background and green grass scribbled in at the donkey’s feet.

“Did you make this for me?” Thomas asked Lucy curiously. She looked up at him with brilliant, excited dark eyes and nodded with a smile, carefully hugging her father’s leg. Her dark hair was bound up in a ponytail and she had on a bright blue dress.

“It’s so that you know which end to think with next time,” she said innocently. “You think with the side that eats apples!”

The crowd erupted in laughter and it took a few minutes for the commotion to die down. Thomas stood there with a confused look on his face as Colonel Neeland stepped up to the microphone. “I know you’re confused, Thomas, so I will explain. Corporal Henderson told me the tale of your mighty trek across deck four during the wasteland crisis,” Murray announced, quieting the crowd with the strength of his voice. “But if you find yourself in a similar situation again, we in the military would suggest that the next time you run across deck three all the way to the lifts at the rear of the Pathfinder. As you know, they take you directly to the Lab wing, and it’s much safer than flashing your badge and forcing our marines to escort you down to deck four so you can sprint across a potential battle zone.” Once again, Thomas felt his face flushing with embarrassment. He glanced out into the crowd and found Kari, who was standing at the rear of the group laughing and applauding with everyone else.

“What can I say?” Thomas decided, stepping up to the podium and speaking into the microphone. “I didn’t know your troops had the entire area cordoned off. Tactical strategy is your department, Colonel – not mine!” He triumphantly held Lucy’s picture in the air and Kaufield thumped him firmly on his back.

“Spoken like a true civilian,” Dennis shouted into the microphone, clapping his hands. He turned and pointed to both Glen and Thomas who stood side by side with their new medals dangling. “Congratulations, gentlemen!”

“Congratulations!” the entire crowd repeated, right before the noise became too loud for anyone to hear anything except for the clapping, hoots and hollers.

“Congratulations indeed,” Thomas repeated to himself, thinking back to just how far he had come in just a few short months. With the experience he had gained working on the Pathfinder Project, he was now accomplishing more by working a lighter schedule each day than he ever had while putting in the longer hours. He had become a teacher, and – although he wouldn’t recognize it for a few more years – a true leader as well. He lifted Lucy up into his arms and gently hugged her before kissing her firmly on one cheek. Next he carefully handed her back to Corporal Henderson to the delight of the cheering crowd surrounding them.

*     * * *     *

The next morning found Kaufield sitting calmly in the Command Dome, listening to the activity around him. Mary was busy scanning the immediate area with motion sensors, quickly locating the latest Canary Probe to return from yet another of Dr. Markham’s test sites. She turned and nodded at the Captain, acknowledging the probe’s successful journey. Across from her, Adam sat at his station carefully monitoring the Pathfinder’s current course alongside the outer edge of Poseidon’s gravity river.

“All preliminary data from the Canary probe indicates a successful transit,” Glen’s voice said cheerfully from the open Comm-link at the Captain’s side. As usual he was down in the Lab wing making sure the CAS team kept everything running perfectly.

“Continue the countdown to our transit,” Kaufield ordered.

“The ship is secure and ready for PTP,” Adam responded. “May I ask where we’re going this time? Do additional lengthy, boring gravitational studies lie ahead in our future, perhaps?”

“Good guess,” said Mary, laughing happily. “Dr. Markham is very enthused about these ‘boring’ studies as you call them. She’s worked her whole life to find out more about the universe and I would imagine could care less if the rest of us are interested or not.”

“Well I like a little more excitement in my life,” Adam responded. “That’s probably why I hooked up with a fighter chick.” He heard Kaufield laughing in the background and smiled.

“The Canary Probe has docked with the Pathfinder,” Mary reported. “We’re all set for a transit to the new test site.”

“Coordinates are set and verified, Captain,” said Glen from the Lab wing. “One minute, ten seconds remain until CAS Drive activation.”

“So how does Glen like his medal?” Kaufield asked Mary, chuckling a little at the memory of the prior day’s events. “Is he letting all of the attention go to his head?”

“No,” Mary replied, smirking slightly. “He’s got a really quiet, humble personality. Like Thomas, he was very overwhelmed by the surprise and all of the attention. They both feel everyone who worked with them day after day deserve the award as much as they do. That’s why they hung their medals on one of the walls in the Lab wing – so everyone can share them.”

“Having a hero or two around for our people to look up to never hurts,” Kaufield decided. “We don’t know how long we’re going to be out and about traveling the universe, so it’s also important to keep morale up.”

“Twenty-two seconds to transit,” Glen’s voice sounded out confidently. “All CAS systems read green.”

“Thomas has really turned his life around,” Adam said. “The kid was absolutely destroyed emotionally by the attack on Earth and having to cope with the after effects. I’m very proud of him and I made sure to tell him that yesterday evening.”

“He still feels he isn’t always contributing enough these days,” Mary said softly. “But when he looks back on the demand he was placing on himself to perform he can at least admit now that a lot of it was unrealistic. He was simply expecting too much of himself.”

“Ten seconds,” commented Glen.

“A lot of people never recover emotionally from what he went through,” Kaufield said. “Whether he and Glen can admit it, they are heroes.”

“I can hear everything you guys are saying up there, by the way,” Glen laughed heartily. “The Pathfinder is ready for transit in five, four, three…”.

They had grown accustomed to the routine, instantaneous CAS leaps across vast distances over the months that had passed since the attack on Earth. There was the usual quick PTP flash and then it was over – destination achieved. The CAS procedure used was exactly the same as standard PTP, the only differences being distance and the amount of power they could apply to the engine using the singularity’s electricity instead of the alternative power generated from burning liquid fuel. Short range trips had become as commonplace as the longer ones, which was why they were all astonished…

…when this time the ship bucked wildly from side to side and several consoles in the command ring in front of Mary and Adam suddenly sparked and began smoking. Kaufield leaped to his feet and caught Ensign Long, who had lost his balance and was about to fall. He steadied the young man and then frowned in frustration as the lights in the room went dark. Aside from a few consoles whose screens still glowed with power they were unexpectedly shrouded in darkness. Dennis immediately smelled the acrid odor of burnt electrical insulation, and he could see a small fire burning inside one of the valuable laptops.

“What in blazes was that?” he asked, confused by the sudden silence in the Command Dome. Almost all of the computer systems that provided the normal background noise had stopped functioning.

“I have no idea,” he heard Adam comment from across the room.

“The damage control computer is still working, sir,” Ensign Long reported. Kaufield could see the eerie outline of the man’s face as he reviewed the computer’s data.  “Aside from the electrical failure we have minor structural damage to the Garden and Livestock wings… but the computer reports they are still intact and pressurized.”

“Thank God for that,” Mary concluded softly.

Abruptly the power and lights snapped back on and everyone quickly busied themselves at their stations. Dennis watched and waited helplessly as they worked, fighting back a burst of anger and intense frustration at the unexpected situation.

“The Pathfinder is on backup systems,” Mary reported. “Battery power only… the CAS singularity is not… I repeat… not active.” Swiftly, she put up an image of the wand on one of the monitors to verify. “It’s gone dark.”

Dennis quickly activated the closest Comm-link. “Glen,” he said firmly, “This is the Command Dome. What’s going on down there…? Was there some sort of a problem with the transit?”

“I’m not… sure yet,” came the hesitant reply. “Please stand by.”

“There’s nothing out of the ordinary on motion sensors,” Mary reported. “But I do think you should look at this,” she commented, putting up an image on one of the overhead screens.

Burning in the center of the screen was a distant star. In the foreground was a huge scattering of thousands of small comets, their bright tails all pointing away from the star’s solar radiation. Several extremely thin nebulae, composed of angry red-colored dust stretched and twisted their way through the cloud of comets and deeper into the image as far as they could see. The normal blackness of empty space was completely gone – instead they were staring at a screen filled with a soft golden mist. From an astronomer’s perspective it was a spectacular sight and everyone paused for a moment to simply admire the scene.

“That’s a really remarkable view,” Kaufield commented, “But it’s most definitely not where we’re supposed to be right now. We were programmed to emerge from the transit trip next to a trinary star system.” He met Adam’s gaze with a look of puzzlement. “So that begs the question, where the hell are we?”

“Captain, this is Glen,” said Fredericks, his voice momentarily distorted by a burst of static on the still-open Comm-Link. “Someone changed our destination coordinates right before we activated the CAS Drive. We landed in the exact center of the Poseidon gravity river.”

“Confirm that, please!” Kaufield ordered.

“I have… three times already,” Glen insisted. “Instead of our next planned transit alongside the edge of the river we instead traveled over 73 million light years directly into it. If you had asked me to put us into its exact center these are the coordinates I would have suggested. I’m not kidding you… the Pathfinder is currently sitting no more than 5 light minutes from the center of the river’s width at this point along its length.”

“What’s the status of our CAS Drive?”

“It’s down until further notice, Captain. We suffered severe damage to our electrical equipment down here. As expected, the PTP window did not interact very well with Poseidon’s gravitational force. Our carefully controlled singularity model collapsed from the disruption as soon as we emerged from transit.”

“Adam, bring the liquid fuel engines back to full power and place our maneuvering thrusters at station-keeping. Mary, please let me know if anything dangerous floats our way.”

“May I make a suggestion, Captain?” Adam asked. Dennis nodded and walked over to stand next to him as both men studied the readouts on Adam’s helm console. “I think that we should leave the maneuvering thrusters off at this point – to conserve fuel. There’s way too much gravity here and everything is drifting toward Poseidon, so I think we should let the ship float with it and that will minimize our risk of colliding with anything.” He shrugged, pointing at their fuel indicators. “That is, unless you want us to expend valuable fuel trying to swim upstream like a school of salmon.”

“Point taken. We may need that fuel if we can’t get the CAS Drive working again,” Kaufield said grimly. “If we are unable to restore it to full operation, we’re going to have to try using smaller, standard PTP transits at a 90 degree angle in order to move back out into normal space.”

“We’ll have to begin burning some of the liquid fuel anyway, Captain. We can’t stay on battery power for any reasonable length of time.”

“Agreed. Thanks primarily to the ‘Atomic Nightmare’, we’re almost fully loaded with fuel,” Kaufield said, taking a deep breath as he activated the Comm-link next to Adam. “Glen, who changed the PTP destination coordinates?”

“Pardon me?”

“As I understand it, the CAS systems will only accept commands from dedicated work stations in the Lab wing or from my Delta console. Each work station logs a specific security code for all commands as they are received and processed by our network. So look at the log and please tell me which work station changed the destination coordinates on us.”

“Stand by Captain,” Glen said quickly.

“This is not good,” Adam noted, clearly frustrated. “If we can’t restore the CAS systems to full operation we’re a long way from anyplace safe right now…”

“Don’t begin worrying prematurely,” replied Dennis firmly. “The ship is intact and simply drifting calmly in a gravity river at this point… that’s all. The only problem that we need to address is how to get safely out again. We have food, water, and a lot of resources out there – drifting right along with us. If we require additional fuel then at least we have plenty of material nearby to search through using shuttles.”

“Do you know how long it will take, using only standard PTP, to return to normal space?” queried Adam. “We’re not talking a short-term crisis here. Our maximum range for transit just decreased to a fraction of our previous capability. Standard Point-to-Point is usually meant for travel within our solar system.”

“I’m sending a copy of today’s activity log to Adam’s screen,” Glen’s voice crackled through the Comm-link speaker. “All commands are prefixed by a location code: ‘COM’ for Command Dome or ‘LAB’ for the Lab wing. This location is followed by a work station number, command sequence ID, and a date/time stamp. Together these items comprise a unique key that is assigned to each computer instruction processed by our systems.”

“The command that changed the transit coordinates will be near the end of the list,” Dennis commented, pointing at the information appearing on Adam’s screen. “It will be the instruction received just prior to CAS PTP activation.”

“There,” Adam said, pointing at the screen. “What the devil…?”

They stared in awe at the command log list. Each instruction began with the proper security code prefixed by ‘COM’ or ‘LAB’ except for the one they were looking for. The command that issued the change in coordinates was there, but listed with a security code beginning with the word…

“Trust,” Kaufield said, dumbfounded. “No work station ID, no sequence number, no date or time received. Just the one word: ‘Trust’.”

“Who could do that?” Mary asked. “Not even our top-level command staff can bypass the dedicated systems and plant a command like that. It would take…”

“...Much more technical knowledge than anyone on this ship has,” the Captain decided. “It must be our unknown friends again – the ones who sent us the ‘universe diagram’. Whatever their ultimate agenda for us is, we’ve just moved another step closer to it.”

“They forced the Pathfinder to come here and crashed our CAS systems in the process,” Adam growled. “And now they’re asking – at least I think they’re asking – for our unconditional trust? That would be a hell of a lot easier if we had been allowed a choice in the matter.”

“Mary, please keep our motion sensors active and scanning,” Kaufield decided. “I’m going to go and have a chat with Dr. Markham in the Observatory. It looks as though we’re going to have the chance to spend some time directly exploring the Poseidon gravity river from within its boundaries after all.”

19: XVIII: Discovery

THE PATHFINDER PROJECT

Chapter XVIII: Discovery

On the 142^nd day since the Pathfinder first dared to venture out of the Milky Way, Thomas Roh spent the entire day – and a good part of his evening – down in the Lab wing working side by side with his good friend Glen Fredericks. Their goal was still a simple one: restore the CAS Drive systems to full operation so that the ship could exit from the gravity river surrounding them. He had lost count of the number of weeks that they had been drifting, but was certain that someone somewhere was keeping track. The young scientist had simply made it a priority not to worry about the things he was temporarily unable to change.

Dr. Markham was quite pleased with their predicament – she continued to reassure him that she and her staff were learning a great deal by having the opportunity to directly view objects captured by the immense gravity field. There was only so much they could learn, she pointed out, during the time that the Pathfinder had been stationed many light years distant. Still, it bothered Thomas – a lot – that the CAS systems were off-line… the idea of being trapped in the gravity river for any length of time was an extremely unappealing one both to him and to the rest of the crew as well. The feeling of helplessness weighed on everyone psychologically, even if no immediate danger presented itself.

It was well past dinner time when he and Glen mutually agreed to suspend operations for yet another day. They were still busy with the huge task of identifying and replacing burnt out circuit boards and other computer components, but fortunately for them the electronics division of their Lab wing had kicked its hardware production into overdrive. Normally this was Adam’s department, but Kaufield had decided to keep him busy steering the ship in the Command Dome. They no longer needed his innovative hardware design skills since the original schematics for the CAS systems were stored in their central mainframe. The electronics production this time around was geared toward replacement – specifically the equipment that had been damaged or destroyed during their unplanned transit into the gravity river.

Thomas entered his quarters tired, hungry and slightly dejected. They had gotten so used to having the CAS singularity available for the Pathfinder’s power needs that the comment he had recently made to Julie about her being spoiled by its capabilities now seemed like a nasty omen. He was reaching for the light switch when he suddenly heard snoring. Grinning to himself he decided to leave the lights off and not disturb Kari. Dressed in cut-off jeans shorts and a T-shirt, his girlfriend from the Observatory was sacked out comfortably on his couch, sound asleep. He noticed that George was curled up and tucked comfortably between her ankles, purring as he enjoyed the warmth from her legs on both sides of his fur-lined body.

“Lucky you,” he whispered to the cat and moved to the kitchen area. He opened his refrigerator and began looking for something to make a sandwich with. Since he still lived by himself – except when Kari was around – there weren’t a lot of choices available. He was still rummaging through his meager choices when he heard her soft voice from behind him.

“Late night, huh?” she asked, sitting up carefully. George also got up as she moved her legs and hopped down to the carpet. The cat yawned slowly and then stretched out his front paws, doing his best to wake up. Kari reached a hand down and stroked his fluffy fur as he walked by, causing George to roll onto his back and playfully paw at her fingers.

“I guess so… it’s not too often that I knock off for the day later than you do,” Thomas commented. “There’s nothing in my fridge. Madame, would you please do me the honor of accompanying me to one of the restaurants for a late supper?”

“Maybe,” she said, reaching down with both hands to rub George’s tummy. The cat decided to escalate the encounter, wrapping all four paws around her hands and starting to gnaw on her knuckles. She continued to tickle him and George suddenly decided enough was enough and leaped to his feet. The black and white furred cat scrambled quickly all the way into the kitchen before pausing alertly by Thomas’ feet, his tail curled high into the air.

“Maybe?” Thomas asked curiously. “Woman, I’m hungry enough to eat one of those cows up in the Livestock wing all by myself. After looking at computer components all day, I was seriously thinking about using up one of my steak rations.”

“Sit down on the couch,” she said coyly, motioning to the opposite side of the sofa.

“Well… maybe I want to sit next to you,” grinned Thomas, winking at her.

“Nope, you’ve been working really hard so I’m going to teach you a new stress relief game, but it requires you to sit across from me,” Kari decided. She continued to sit against one side of the sofa with her legs stretched attractively along its length. Realizing he wanted to eat dinner within the next millennium, Thomas decided to humor her and sat down where she indicated. He swung his legs up onto the couch and she carefully curled at the knees so that he had room to place the bottom of his feet against hers. The material in his socks was all that separated their feet – he noticed she had left both her shoes and stockings sitting next to the doorway. Things were getting interesting, he mused silently.

“A new stress relief game, huh?” Thomas asked suspiciously, raising an eyebrow at her.

“It’s a piece of cake and really easy to learn,” she countered, smirking at him. “I ask you questions and you answer them. If I like your answers you get a positive response.”

“That sounds a lot like you have most of the power and control over this game,” he noted with amusement.

“Exactly,” Kari said, rubbing one of her feet along the inside of his shin. She ignored the puzzled look he gave her, noting that he didn’t exactly yank his leg away from her probing foot. “How long have we been going together, Thomas?”

“95 days,” he replied. “That one is easy, because our first date was back on the Fourth of July. We went to the party in the Garden wing together and you captured my heart that night.”

“Ooh, good answer,” Kari smiled, moving her foot up to the inside of his thigh. She slowly rubbed her toes back and forth across his leg and watched the young scientist begin to grow steadily uncomfortable. In her off duty hours she spent a lot of time walking with Mary, Julie, and Nori in the Garden wing. The lovely tan on her legs that this exposure gave her was not lost on Thomas as he struggled to maintain his composure.

“Do you want to work toward a positive, long-term relationship with me and me only?” She blinked her eyelids at him and blew him a kiss.

“Absolutely,” Thomas said, continuing to grow more and more uncomfortable as her foot continued to wind its way around the inside of his legs. He had to carefully sit up and shift position slightly as her foot worked its way under his shirt and onto his bare stomach beneath. “I’m a scientist. Do you realize how heavily the odds are against another female of any sort ever being attracted to me?”

“Do you want to have children with me?” she asked. He noticed her tone of voice had a distinctly serious flavor to it.

“As long as they don’t turn out like Adam,” he chuckled, laughing gleefully at his own joke. Kari’s foot suddenly withdrew quickly from beneath his shirt and kicked him smartly on the shin. “Ouch!” he growled and then grew serious as he saw the expression on her face.

“Do you want to have children with me?” she repeated. “Do you want to start a family regardless of where we end up on this trek through the universe of ours?”

“As long as it’s with you, Kari Hansen,” Thomas said sincerely. “After what happened to me emotionally as a result of the attack on Earth, I never expected a girl to ever look at me seriously again, much less a beautiful person like you.” Both of her bare feet slipped under his shirt and he struggled mightily to maintain his dignified posture. He mentally forced himself to take large, deep breaths and cautioned himself to ignore the sight of her lovely bare legs. He was successful with the deep breaths, but found that he inexplicably couldn’t remember what the second part of his plan had been.

“Do you like me?” she asked, fluttering her eyelids at him again. “Do you really like me, Thomas Roh?” He looked into her dark brown eyes and smiled.

“I love you, Kari, and I’m not afraid to say it. I don’t care where we end up or what obstacles we have to overcome, as long as I spend the time with you…” He watched her face begin to glow with embarrassment and was pleased to discover that she could grow somewhat uncomfortable as well. “If it’s a commitment you’re looking for, you’ve got it. Don’t worry about silly little things like that.”

“Are you proposing to me?” she wondered out loud.

“Hell no. You’ll know when I’m proposing to you because it’ll be a complete surprise and I’ll do the deed properly.” He was a bit puzzled and risked a quick look toward the kitchen where George sat carefully washing his face with one paw. “I thought you said this was a stress relief game. So far it’s been more of a heart to heart…”

Her T-Shirt hit him squarely in the face, leaving him temporarily unable to see and beginning to realize that everything his friends had told him about women over the years was pretty much true. “What do you think happens next?” she asked.

“I’ll tell you what,” Thomas decided, tossing the shirt aside. “I may not be the toughest, most physical guy on the ship but I am a guy.” He got up off of the couch and watched her playfully stand up on it, her feet sinking deep into its cushions. He walked over and stood next to her with his mouth inches from her bare stomach. She was a knockout anyway you looked at her… so having her stand there in short shorts with only a bra on was just about more than Thomas could take. “Okay, now I get it,” he grinned, “You’re in control of the questions, and it’s my job to take care of the stress relief part.” He kissed her bare stomach several times, focusing particularly on her navel area. He finally couldn’t resist and grabbed her firmly around the waist with both hands and lifted her gently to the carpeted floor.

“Kiss me,” she said and Thomas quickly obliged her. He had minimum experience at close encounters with women so his hands delightfully began exploring the curves and surface of her skin. Somewhere around that time her bra hit the floor followed almost immediately by his shirt and suddenly they were kissing deeply and passionately. She pulled back from his kiss and gasped for breath while Thomas sank to his knees, kissing her beautiful naked breasts. Both his hands and hers worked furiously to remove their remaining clothes.

“What if…” she gasped as he continued kissing her breasts and bared stomach. “What if you and Glen can’t get the CAS Drive fixed? That means we’re trapped in this gravity river.”

“Oh we’ll get it working again,” Thomas promised. “And if we don’t, then I guess I’m spending eternity with you!” Laughing, he picked her up – Kari took the opportunity to wrap her legs around his waist. She giggled uncontrollably as Thomas took a step forward and nearly fell.

“Don’t quite… know if I’m… made for this,” he chuckled as they stumbled toward the bedroom. He paused, noting that George was walking curiously toward them, his feline instincts sensing something interesting developing. “Sorry cat,” Thomas said firmly before shutting the door. “This is strictly a matter for the human animal.”

*     * * *     *

Early the next morning, Kaufield arrived for the early watch in the Command Dome and took his usual seat. Each day since their arrival within Poseidon’s influence, he had taken the time to carefully study the overhead monitors, admiring the breathtaking scenery that continually surrounded them within the gravity river. A substantial amount of matter continually poured into its clutches and the visible stars coming along for the ride kept everything brilliantly lit up in a spectacular display of patterns and color. If their CAS systems weren’t so thoroughly damaged the Captain would have been overjoyed at this opportunity to study the natural wonder. However, the undeniable fact that many of their computers were still non-functional simply reinforced his initial conclusion that the power of this natural phenomenon needed to be respected.

Dennis was not comfortable within Poseidon and never would be as long as they were trapped and unable to generate a stable singularity. Of course there was the option of using shorter, standard PTP transits to move the Pathfinder back into normal space. He was simply not ready to choose that option yet since the ship would expend massive amounts of fuel in the process. A non-CAS journey back to normal space would require years of continual travel and almost certainly force them to stop periodically in order to locate additional sources of fuel. He was proud of the Lab team that they had assembled and confident that only time and patience was needed in order to fully restore their CAS systems.

Of course there was also the issue of just who had brought them here. That was yet another reason he hesitated to begin moving out of the celestial river. Someone unknown to them had obviously been observing their progress very closely since the Pathfinder left the Milky Way and had even gone so far as to ask for their trust. Waiting to see whether a CAS singularity could be generated within Poseidon’s gravity addressed at least three immediate issues: (1) Could they CAS transit out again given the conditions of the environment surrounding them? (2) Would the unknown person or persons observing them show themselves or at least attempt to make contact? And lastly, (3) It was the Captain’s experience that patience was almost always rewarded in the long run. Taking their time in this case gave Julie and her staff in the Observatory wing what they had most longed for since their journey started – the opportunity to conduct a detailed study of a marvel like Poseidon up close.

Thus far they had detected no direct threat to the safety of the ship or its crew… that was what mattered most to Kaufield at this point. The unexpected battle in the wasteland galaxy had left him more than a little bit cautious. It had reinforced the need to be watchful and mindful of the unpredictable dangers that surrounded them so far from familiar space. The speed and precision of the alien attack had shocked him, making the Captain more determined than ever to be ready for anything – any danger – that might appear and threaten them again.

Dennis glanced up sharply, noticing that Adam had snuck in sometime during his silent study of the glittering nebulae on the monitors. The elder Roh was busy reviewing information on the helm console with one hand while attempting to maintain his grip on a hot cup of coffee with the other. The Ensign he relieved nodded gratefully and headed toward the nearest exit, probably on his way to grab a bite to eat and almost certainly to get some rest. The Comm-link next to the Captain lit up and he quickly acknowledged the signal.

“Good morning, Captain Kaufield, this is Murray,” Colonel Neeland said, his voice breaking the peaceful silence that – until now – had dominated the Command Dome. “I hate to bother you this early, but we’ve got a situation in progress down here on deck four and I could really use your help.”

“What’s going on?” asked Dennis curiously.

“There’s another potential security breach in Patrick Warren’s quarters. We’ve got a level one alert in place down here and armed troops on the scene since people are naturally a bit edgy where Mr. Warren is concerned.”

“I’m on my way,” Kaufield replied. “I’ll be down in ten minutes.”

“Oh, and Captain?” the Colonel asked quickly.

“I’m still here,” said Dennis reassuringly.

“Before you do come down, I’d suggest you take a look at security file ‘Murray100’ in the computer log. It will explain a lot.”

“Acknowledged,” replied Kaufield. He snapped the Comm-link closed and activated his work station, using it to quickly call up and review the information that Neeland had drawn his attention to. He shook his head in dismay at what he saw before shutting down the computer and rising to his feet. “Adam, I’m going down to deck four to see what all the fuss is about. I’d be most grateful if you would mind the store for me while I’m gone.”

“We’ll keep your seat warm, sir,” Adam grinned cheerfully, taking a slow sip of coffee.

Kaufield found chaos on deck four, but not at the high level he had expected. The marines had forced most of the civilians back from around Patrick Warren’s quarters, but there was still a large enough crowd of angry civilians to make the situation dangerous.

“Traitor!” someone shouted angrily. “Freaking child killer!” Other people joined in, shouting their own insults and heated comments. The situation was definitely in danger of escalating and would certainly have done so by now if the marines had not aggressively formed a protective circle, their backs to each other, at the crowd’s center.

“Our Council gave you a second chance!” Jack Dandridge pointed out, standing at the forefront of the crowd in the doorway to his quarters. “You Brotherhood murderers think you’ve beaten us, but in the end you’ll find out that Americans cannot be held down for long!”

The Captain wasn’t the least bit surprised to see Jack leading the mob – his outright hatred for his Brotherhood neighbor was well known amongst the crew. Dandridge pointed at Patrick Warren, who was standing next to four armed marines and still wore an apron from his morning shift in the restaurant.

Noticing Kaufield’s arrival, Colonel Neeland hastily stepped forward to join him. His expression was concerned but so far his troops had maintained the peace.

“Someone found a small black rock lying in the corridor this morning,” Murray said informatively. “They reported the find to Security, so we ran a priority check and it turned out to be fuel ore. I immediately initiated a security alert and we searched Warren’s quarters. These were found in his desk drawer.” He carefully handed Kaufield three more dark-colored mineral stones.

“That certainly explains our current situation,” Dennis decided, glancing curiously at the stones in his hand. “Thanks for taking charge and keeping things under control.”

“You’re welcome,” replied the Colonel.

In front of them, Dandridge pointed an angry finger at Warren. “We should shove you out a damned airlock for this!” he shouted. “That will put a stop to your private little bomb-making business.” He waved his arms and tried to start a chant of “Airlock, airlock, airlock…” Some members of the crowd began to chant with him but were abruptly silenced as Kaufield stepped forward. He grabbed the hand Dandridge was pointing with and yanked the man toward him, staring fiercely into the other man’s eyes as he did so.

“Are you finished?” the Captain snarled angrily. “I don’t appreciate people trying to form a lynch mob on my ship.”

“He’s planning sabotage again,” objected Dandridge furiously. “They found more fuel ore in his quarters this morning – ask your marines if you don’t believe me!” Fuming, he pointed at the troops standing next to Warren.

Kaufield carefully held up the stones in his hand. “Do you mean these particular rocks?” he asked curiously.

“Yes. He thought he covered his tracks this time, but he dropped one in the corridor and the marines found those in his quarters while he was working in the restaurant.” Behind them, the crowd had quieted some but most of the passengers still had murderous expressions on their faces. It was definitely an unpleasant situation to be faced with and it certainly could not be allowed to escalate into violence. Dennis sighed patiently and held up a hand for quiet as the Colonel and his troops ordered the crowd to back up some more. This helped to abruptly calm everyone down as passengers had to jockey for new positions to watch from.

“We checked, Captain,” said one of the marines. “There’s no sign of forcible entry into his quarters. And we really did find the mineral stones in there.”

“Mr. Warren no longer has security clearance to be in the Pathfinder’s hangar bay or in our Laboratory,” Kaufield pointed out. “So a curious guy like me is wondering just where he got these stones from.”

“What does it matter?” someone in the crowd shouted. “He had the stones and we know from experience that he likes to sit in his quarters and make bombs.” Murmurs began in the crowd and the cries of protest began to start up again.

“Yes it does matter,” Dennis replied, quieting the crowd again through sheer force of will. “Because as soon as we abandon the rule of law and due process, that’s when the Brotherhood will have beaten us spiritually as well as on the battlefield. Their society annihilated ours and many of them are guilty of murder, but this man is not…” He pointed at Patrick Warren for emphasis. “This man has not killed anyone.”

“Give him time,” one of the hangar bay technicians said spitefully. “He’ll renew his commitment to kill us all.”

“Quite the contrary, actually,” objected Kaufield. “The Council and I met with Mr. Warren many times after his initial mission of espionage was revealed to us. We found him quite guilty of those crimes and he agreed to meet all of our conditions in return for limited freedom aboard the Pathfinder. One of those conditions was that he fully cooperate with our efforts to learn more about the Brotherhood – a project that I think you’ll all agree is absolutely critical if we’re ever to find a way to fight back against them.”

“That doesn’t excuse his crime!” retorted Dandridge. “You’ve had plenty of time to study him… it’s time for justice! Throw the bastard out an airlock, I say!”

“Yes, give him the airlock express!” the hangar technician agreed. “Space the Brotherhood saboteur!”

Dennis continued to calmly look Dandridge directly in the eyes. He noticed that the man was sweating profusely, with large drops of moisture noticeably running down his forehead. “You use the word justice,” said Kaufield angrily, “But you have no idea what it actually means. You simply distort it to justify your hatred… and I think you’d willingly sacrifice this man’s life whether he’s guilty or not – as long as it satisfies your craving for vengeance.”

“He’s not a man! That genetically enhanced freak was caught red-handed again,” Dandridge insisted.

“Was he, Jack?” asked Kaufield carefully. “Are you absolutely certain of that?”

“Yes! You’re holding the evidence,” spoke up one of the marines.

“I’m holding three stones,” the Captain replied. “Any system of justice worth its salt takes its time to search for the truth… not by reacting wildly based on appearances and circumstantial evidence. You’ll note that I pointed out earlier that Patrick Warren willingly agreed – as a part of his sentencing by the Council – to a series of conditions. Another of those conditions was that he leave his door unlocked at all times… hence the lack of forced entry.”

“And the fuel ore?” Dandridge seethed. “How do you explain that?”

“He also agreed to 24 hour, internal video surveillance of his quarters,” Kaufield said flatly, continuing to observe Dandridge carefully. He normally didn’t get too personally involved in situations such as this one, but he truly enjoyed watching the man squirm with visible discomfort. “Just before I came down here I watched a video log taped earlier this morning. It shows you, Jack Dandridge, entering Patrick’s quarters shortly after he reported for work. I watched you carefully search his room and then plant the three stones in his desk drawer. If you like, we can go up to the Command Dome and I’ll let you watch the video yourself.”

Dandridge fell awkwardly against the corridor wall while the crowd surrounding him became absolutely silent. “You video tape his quarters…” Jack said slowly with obvious disbelief.

“…24 hours a day. That’s correct. And from what the Colonel tells me it’s not the first time you’ve been in there without his permission while he’s not at home.”

“You did this, Jack?” asked one of the female hangar workers. “You did this?”

“Patrick agreed to let us monitor his activities in order to guarantee to the Council that he would not continue the Brotherhood’s agenda of violence against our people,” continued Kaufield. “Jack planted the stones, Jack tried to frame him, and Jack tried to work you all into a feeding frenzy so that he could form a lynch mob to execute Patrick without a trial. He did it because, despite everything he claims to stand for, he doesn’t give a damn about something as simple as justice. All he cares about is revenge… and in this case the revenge should be directed at the Brotherhood Triumvirate we left behind in the Milky Way, not the man standing before you. Patrick is voluntarily cooperating with us, and we still badly need his help to learn more about our mysterious Earth enemy.”

“Take this man into custody,” Neeland said, pointing at Dandridge. Two of the guards moved over and each of them grabbed an arm.

“Wait…” Jack said nervously, holding up a hand. “I beg you – I have responsibilities in the hangar bay. I have to go to work in an hour.”

“That’s right,” Kaufield said, still holding the mineral stones in his right hand. “You do have to go to work… but not in the hangar bay. As of this moment your security clearance is revoked and you will be reassigned to work side by side with Mr. Warren in the restaurant.”

“What?”

“I’m serious. Go grab an apron and get to work.”

“Captain, you can’t…”

“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do,” Kaufield snarled, his fist closing around the three small stones with sudden, burning rage. “Not after what you’ve pulled. We’re in enough trouble drifting along helplessly in this gravity river, and you call out most of our Security personnel and have me pulled off my shift in the Command Dome for what – to come down here for this?”

Dandridge rallied up what remained of his courage. “Suppose I refuse? I have that right.”

“No you don’t actually,” the Captain disagreed. “You’re so fond of pronouncing summary judgment against someone – fine. Here’s a decision for you. You’re the one who decided that stealing fuel ore is a capital crime and now we’ve learned that you stole some of them yourself. Breaking the law is no way to enforce the law, not to mention that the entire crew is just plain sick of listening to you bitch about the conditions on this ship. So I order you to work in the restaurant with Mr. Warren. If you decline to do so then the sentence you chose for him applies – we’ll have you thrown out the nearest airlock.”

“Captain, please… you don’t understand… show some mercy, for God’s sake.”

“I understand perfectly,” Dennis growled furiously. “Now all of a sudden – when it’s you who’s guilty of the same crime that you accused Patrick of – the word mercy is suddenly available in your vocabulary. Get to work in the restaurant or take a close-up tour of the gravity river… it really makes no difference to me.”

“I deserve a trial…” Jack objected. “Captain, I deserve a trial – you said I do.”

“And you’ll get one,” Kaufield promised. “We’ll give you a really nice trial with a judge and jury and video-taped evidence that clearly shows your guilt.” He handed the rocks back to the Colonel. “But as Captain I get to make a recommendation to the Council as to your sentence if you’re found guilty, and – just so you know – they haven’t overruled any of my suggestions yet.” He turned and walked angrily through the crowd and headed off down the corridor toward the lifts at the front of the Pathfinder.

“All right everybody, we’re done here,” Colonel Neeland said loudly. “Let’s get back to your quarters or on to your jobs or wherever you’re supposed to be.” He began motioning sharply for compliance and the crowd immediately began to break up and disperse. “You!” he said, pointing at Dandridge, “Come with me. I’m personally going to escort both you and Mr. Warren back to the restaurant.” He noticed the look of shame that came over Dandridge’s face as he glanced nervously at Patrick – the man had remained quiet and said absolutely nothing in his own defense through the entire affair. “Well what do you know,” grinned Neeland with wonder. “Is that a hint of remorse, perhaps? And here I thought I’d seen everything already this morning…”

*     * * *     *

Evening found Kaufield in the Livestock wing near one of the newly constructed barns. Off in the distance he could see Mary out horseback riding – Joseph was sitting behind her and clinging tightly to her waist. The beautiful brown and white horse paused, whinnied, and then continued trotting happily around the empty fenced-off field. Next to the barn were a series of benches and he could see Adam, Noriana and Thomas seated casually together. A half empty pitcher of lemonade sat next to Adam and the ice cubes in it tinkled lightly as he noticed the Captain’s approach and quickly poured him a cup.

“I see that Mary has made good on her promise to go riding,” Dennis grinned, sitting down next to them and taking a sip of the lemonade. He looked first at the cup and then at Adam. “Just out of curiosity, where did you manage to get cold beverages?”

“There’s a small refrigerator back in the barn,” Adam said, waving a hand over his shoulder. “There are some other choices also, if you want something a little bit stronger.”

“No thanks,” Kaufield decided. “If today proved anything it’s that you never know when something weird and unexpected is going to rear its ugly head. I’d better keep control of my faculties, at least for the time being.” He glanced casually back at the barn and noticed a large brown dog in front, lying on his side and sleeping heavily in the simulated sunlight. It was a very relaxing scene, to say the least. “But there will come a day…”

“There are always holidays and other special occasions that you can look forward to,” Nori decided cheerfully as they clinked their plastic cups together in a mock toast. Her curly, cinnamon-frosted hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail and Dennis grinned at her freckled expression as he carefully patted her swelling belly.

“How is our junior pilot doing?” he asked.

“He’s very well, actually,” grinned Nori. “And we’re not the only happy couple as it turns out. Dr. Simmons commented that there are at least two dozen other expectant mothers currently on board the Pathfinder.”

“Two dozen?” Kaufield gasped. “Holy Hannah… I knew lots of people had made the decision to start a family but that’s a lot of kids! This ship is going to be a floating kindergarten before too long!” He sat back and watched Nori and Joseph continue with their horseback ride. The trail that they were using was, for the most part, circular. It wasn’t the lengthiest riding trail he had ever seen but it was sufficient for the handsome steed to alternate between a prance and a full gallop. He listened to the sound of the horse’s hooves and Joseph’s laughter with pure delight, extremely grateful that it had been within his power to keep his son and the rest of the people on board the ship safe.

“Thomas, would you like another round?” offered Adam politely, holding up the frosted pitcher of lemonade. He waved it back and forth, noticing that his younger brother was sitting very quietly lost in thought. “Hey Thomas, are you in there?” he asked a little more loudly.

“Hmm?” asked Thomas, glancing uncomfortably at his brother.

“What’s up with you today?” inquired Adam. “You’ve been all quiet and creepy. Is there something going on in that head of yours that we should know about?”

“Nothing really,” Thomas insisted, smiling politely. “Just trying to figure out how we’re going to generate a stable singularity while inside Poseidon’s grasp, that’s all.” He glanced down at the dirt, frustrated. “There’s just too much matter in here… light, dark, you name it.”

“This is our relaxation time… emphasis on the word relaxation. You’re not supposed to be thinking about work,” commented Adam. “Smell the fresh air or bask in the fake sunlight. But say something once in a while – you’re making me nervous.” He watched Thomas smile weakly and begin to blush. He continued to wonder just what his kid brother was spending so much time thinking about, then remembered how well he knew Thomas and decided there was a 90 percent chance that it had something to do with Kari.

“Thanks for picking up Joseph after school,” Dennis said to Adam and Nori. “One of my Lieutenants is ill, so I had to stay a little longer than normal and help cover the next shift.”

“It’s no problem at all,” responded Nori. “Your son is welcome to join us any time we’re off-shift. He told me this afternoon that he can’t wait to hold our baby when he arrives.”

“Well, for that matter… neither can I!” Kaufield grinned. “For all the progress we’ve made and all the galaxies we’ve charted, there’s still nothing more miraculous than our children. I love watching them observe us, imitate us, and repeat everything that they shouldn’t.”

The horse pulled up next to the fence in front of them, and Mary waved as she and Joseph climbed down from the saddle. “That was great Mary!” Joseph said gleefully. “Thanks a lot!”

“You’ve got riding in your blood, young man,” Mary said, patting him on the shoulder. “I think you should talk to Jeff about taking lessons. They have some older horses in one of the other barns… they’re very gentle and just right for new riders.” Joseph came over and accepted a cup of lemonade from Adam. He quickly drained his glass, obviously thirsty from the activity.

“Are you ready to go, kid?” Dennis asked, standing up and tossing his plastic cup in a nearby wastebasket. “I don’t know about you, but I could use some supper.”

“Yeah, I’m hungry too,” Joseph replied happily. “Can we eat in the Asian restaurant on deck three? They have great food.”

“And they also have video games,” Kaufield commented idly, winking at Adam. “You and your friend Ryan aren’t satisfied unless you both ring up all the high scores – are you?” He thought the matter over for a moment. “Sure, Joseph – let’s eat out tonight. But then we go straight back to our quarters so you can get your homework done. Horseback riding was a nice middle of the week treat, but don’t get too used to it now that the new school season is starting.”

“I know, I know,” he said, running ahead on the walking path toward the exits. He turned and waved cheerfully. “Thanks Adam, Nori and Thomas. And thank you thank you Mary!”

“You’re most welcome, Joseph,” she replied as she began unhooking the saddle from the horse. She stroked the animal softly along his white furry mane and the horse snorted, playfully pawing at the ground with his hooves. She smiled warmly, watching Dennis slowly following his son for a few moments, then grabbed the animal by the collar and carefully led it toward the barn.

He didn’t know exactly what time in the early a.m. it was, but Dennis woke up the next morning with the distinct feeling something was not quite right. He tossed aside the blankets on his bed and got up, moving toward the bedroom doorway. He stepped out into the main living area of the quarters that he shared with his son and checked Joseph’s bedroom. The kid’s door was slightly ajar and he could see his son inside, curled up and safely asleep on the bed. As usual, the kid had taken the pillow and was sleeping with his head at the foot of the bed and his feet stretched out toward the headboard. Kaufield had no idea why Joseph did this, but the boy had been sleeping backwards that way since he was a small child.

The Captain walked slowly across the living room in his pajamas and into the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator and poured himself a glass of chilled water. The feeling that something was not totally right persisted and he sat down on a barstool next to his kitchen countertop, deep in thought. That was when he noticed the image of his dead wife Elizabeth sitting quietly on the sofa in the living room area. She hadn’t changed at all… still the gorgeous blonde with the beautifully long hair and not a curl to be seen. A petite woman, she was barely over 5 foot 2 inches but still a powerful presence to him. She sat comfortably and was wearing a lovely white cotton dress with colored flowers on it – the same dress that she had on in the family picture that sat on his desk.

“Hello Dennis,” she said softly, glancing up at him with her beautiful blue eyes. “I’ve really missed being with you and Joseph these past years. But even when you can’t see me, I’m here. I’ll always be a part of your life.”

“I see,” Kaufield replied, glancing curiously at his hand where he had held the fuel ore stones early in the morning of the previous day. There was a soft red blotch on his palm, almost undetectable, but definitely present. “Again our quarantine has been compromised, this time by someone who claims to be the walking, talking solution to religious extremism.”

“You don’t have to worry, Dennis. The Mirzion your Doctor has prescribed is working perfectly. The reason you’re having a reaction is simply a result of the direct exposure you had. You’re in absolutely no danger.”

“I hope you don’t mind if I confirm that,” Dennis decided as he sat down by the work station on his desk. He typed up a quick E-Note to Dr. Simmons and let her know that he was having hallucinogenic symptoms and ended the communiqué with a query as to whether he needed to stop by for a booster shot of Mirzion. They already knew the unknown bio-agent was non-life threatening, so he saw no immediate need to use the Comm-link and wake her.

“You’re thinking about going back there aren’t you?”

“Pardon me?” he said, swiveling in his seat to gaze – somewhat in disbelief – at the image of his long dead wife.

“Your conversation yesterday morning with Mr. Dandridge – it sparked the thirst for revenge in you, too. You’re considering a return to Earth, so you can try and be a hero,” she said. “I know you, and that’s exactly what part of you wants to do. Go back and try and help the survivors – if there are any.” She paused, folding her hands neatly on her lap. “That Brotherhood attack was hideous… you’ve seen the video footage and know that they are too powerful. You’re simply going to get yourself and everyone who comes with you killed. Can’t you see that?”

He looked at her with more than a little intensity. “We have been working with Patrick Warren to find new ways of identifying and dealing with them. If we can build weapons that will beat them then I most certainly will consider going back and knocking them off their damned hill. What are we supposed to do now that humanity is defeated – let their bloodthirsty nature turn on each other while what’s left of our people get caught in the crossfire?” He shook his head in disbelief. “A society that only knows how to kill will look for new enemies… and if they don’t find any they’ll turn on each other. Who knows,” he snapped furiously. “Maybe they’ll even start a civil war and begin destroying four or five stars per year in our galaxy just so they can keep their opponents off balance.”

“You cannot control what the Brotherhood or strange, alien races do any more than you can control what people like Jack Dandridge do,” she pointed out. “There will always be people who think and believe differently, who value life less than we do, or who simply are bloodthirsty and like to kill. Our civilization has been many things, but it has never been perfect.”

“The Brotherhood will find out that running our society efficiently will be much more difficult than conquering it,” predicted Kaufield.

“So let them figure that out for themselves. Leave it alone. You don’t have to try and play a part in that battle any more, Dennis. For God’s sake you have our son to think about.”

“Our son deserves his home,” snarled Dennis angrily. “He deserves his grandparents around him and his Mother to turn to for advice. He deserves a lot more than he’s going to get in life. All parents want things to be better for their children than it was for them.”

“Our son deserves a home,” Elizabeth said, correcting his statement. “You’ve found plenty of places out here that are suitable for colonization already – and with the Pathfinder’s technology you’ve also managed to put the Brotherhood threat permanently out of reach. You’ve already beaten them Dennis – there’s no need to go back.”

“They took our homes,” Dennis said, tears running from the corners of his eyes. “And they killed our families. Our families!”

“And if you go back they’ll kill you too,” she insisted softly. “Where does that leave Joseph? He adores you and you’re all he has left.”

“I am the commander of the Pathfinder Project and a Naval officer,” Dennis said fiercely. “It is my sworn duty to safeguard my people and fight back against our enemies… whoever they may be.”

“Your duty as a father overrides everything else,” she protested. “I’m not around any longer to remind you, but if I was still by your side I think you know how I’d react to your suggestion of fighting back against the entire Brotherhood military. All you’re looking for is the same kind of revenge you accused Jack Dandridge of.”

“You’re damn right I am,” Kaufield said, standing up and wiping the tears from his eyes. He took a tentative step toward the couch. “Beth…” he pleaded softly.

“Take those angry feelings and put them aside,” his wife said firmly. “They won’t help Joseph and they’ll only tear you apart emotionally. Be a father Dennis. Be a good Dad. If you do that then you will have already beaten the Brotherhood because they can no longer touch you, or any of the families on this crew. Nothing is more important than keeping the children on this ship safe and the future of humanity intact. You have the power in your grasp to guarantee the survival of the human race. Isn’t that more important than fighting back?”

“Right now I’m not in a position to guarantee anything,” Kaufield growled. “We’re floating in the middle of a huge gravity river and I don’t think we’re going to be able to make it out of here in one transit. It’s quite possible that we have a very long journey ahead of us – Joseph could be a kid without a real home for a very long time.”

“Perhaps I can help with that,” said a voice from behind him.

Kaufield spun around quickly and noticed an elderly man standing behind his kitchen counter. The newcomer was thin, had a wrinkled face and friendly smile along with wispy curls of hair so gray they appeared almost white. He was dressed in a dark blue sweater and gray slacks. As the Captain watched he walked out of the kitchen and crossed the room to stand next to the sofa. “Who are you?” Dennis asked cautiously. “I know hallucinations have at times become commonplace on the Pathfinder, but for the most part people generally see someone they know. As far as I can recall, I’ve never met you before.”

“No you most certainly have not,” the man agreed, smiling warmly. “You’ll pardon me for not introducing myself sooner, but I’ve never seen a man have a conversation with a couch before so I wanted to observe you a little bit.”

“As far as I know, this time I’m having a conversation with my kitchen,” Dennis said, feeling a little bit ridiculous. “The only difference is that now I see two imaginary people instead of one.”

“Do you?” the man asked carefully, raising an eyebrow. He turned and glanced toward his left, and Kaufield noticed that a very sleepy-eyed Joseph had walked out of his bedroom and was staring at him very oddly.

“Dad… Dad who are you talking to?” Joseph asked, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. “It’s kind of early in the morning to be having people over, isn’t it?”

“There’s no one here Joseph,” the Captain responded. “I’m just thinking out loud. Dr. Simmons refers to it as a duel between the right- and left-brain halves of our subconscious. We see imaginary people and can even interact with them if we choose to… but in reality we’re simply visualizing a conversation that’s occurring inside the brain. I touched some mineral rocks this morning and they must have…”

“Who’s the old guy?” Joseph interrupted, pointing at the wizened, smiling newcomer. Kaufield stopped in mid-sentence and stared at his son.

“You can see him too?” he asked.

 “Yeah, he’s standing right there in front of you,” Joseph said, sounding a bit more alert than when he had first walked into the room. “Can’t you?”

“Sure I can, but he’s not supposed to…” On impulse Kaufield stepped forward and reached out a hand to Elizabeth. Her image had faded a little bit but he could still see her and she also reached out her hand toward his.

“Take care of our son Dennis,” she said. “I love you both so very much.” She nodded warmly at her husband and then looked lovingly toward her twelve year old son as if grateful to admire him one last time. Kaufield reached out carefully and his hand passed right through her. He waved it back and forth to be sure, but she was definitely one of the bacteria-induced hallucinations that the crew had been reporting since their visit to the ‘Atomic Nightmare’ star system. The interaction with Joseph had helped awaken his own sleepy subconscious and he watched her fade completely away. The older gentleman, however, continued to stand next to the sofa with a big smile on his face.

“Welcome to my home Captain Kaufield,” the man said pleasantly, stepping forward and offering his hand in friendship. “I know a lot about you and I plan for you to know me as well. My name is Noah and I sincerely hope that you and your Council will welcome a delegation from my world aboard your starship.” Dennis stood where he was in complete shock for a moment before carefully holding out his own hand. As he had done with Elizabeth, he cautiously reached forward and was completely astonished when his hand unexpectedly touched warm human flesh. Stunned, he shook hands with the man while Joseph stood giggling in the background.

“Noah,” Kaufield said carefully. “It’s nice to meet you, Noah. I don’t mean to be rude, but I hope you’ll understand and humor me by telling me just who you are and what you’re doing on board the Pathfinder.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Joseph asked, continuing to laugh with delight. “That’s the guy who sent us the mystery picture, Dad.”

*     * * *     *

Adam nodded sleepily at the two marine guards standing next to the Observatory wing’s hatchways. He entered cautiously and walked slowly out into the central working area, trying repeatedly to keep from yawning. Over by the main office area he could see Julie and Glen – both were excitedly discussing something.

“Good morning,” he said drowsily as he joined them. “What’s up with the early morning wakeup call? It’s not even five in the morning yet, for God’s sake.”

“We had a choice,” replied Glen. “We could disturb you or we could disturb the Captain. So welcome to the Observatory!” He handed Adam a cup of coffee and the elder Roh took a sip as he surveyed all the printed material that was spread out all over Dr. Markham’s desk.

“Okay Doctor,” Adam grinned. “I give up. What’s worth disturbing me at this hour? Did you find a neutrino with a crappy attitude or something?”

“You’re joking right now, but you won’t be in a minute or two,” Julie said confidently, handing him a photograph freshly printed only moments before. He took the paper and studied it intently, noting that it showed mostly the golden nebula mist that they had grown used to seeing during the Pathfinder’s slow journey along the length of Poseidon’s gravity river. There were some additional red- and green-colored nebula clusters in one corner, but other than that…

“What… what exactly am I looking at?” he asked. “This is just another one of your pictures of stellar irradiated dust.”

“Not quite… take a look here,” Julie said, pointing to a dark spot in the upper right corner of the photo. “One of my astronomers detected this less than two hours ago. It’s very hard for us to locate individual objects with all the nebula dust floating around us, but he managed to get a decent shot of this because it’s so huge.”

“Okay,” Adam said hesitantly. “So you woke me up at 4:30 a.m. in the morning to show me a picture of a black circle almost totally obscured by a gold dust cloud. I still say big deal.” He watched as Julie frowned and handed him another picture – this one a magnification of the object she had pointed too. Adam glanced at the new photo and did a double-take before whistling as he set his coffee cup down. “This…”

“…is a 3 dimensional sphere of empty space,” Dr. Markham finished for him. “It’s sitting in the exact center of the gravity river like a boulder in a stream. Everything that touches its perimeter breaks apart just like the current in a normal river of water would and continues its course around it.”

“How close are we to this spherical void?” asked Adam, suddenly intrigued.

“Extremely close,” Julie said, tapping the picture with her forefinger. “It appears as though our CAS transit into the center of Poseidon’s river was indeed a planned adjustment to the Pathfinder’s course by someone – we’re drifting directly toward it.”

“Well what is it?” he asked. “It looks like the result of some kind of energy source that neutralizes gravity. It’s acting just like a magnet would when you move its positive pole next to a negative one. It’s obstructing or repelling all of the dust and stellar objects that come in contact with it, forcing them to simply float around.”

“For starters it’s almost three million light years in diameter,” Glen spoke up. “It’s also a perfect sphere – Dr. Markham’s astronomers have not been able to find any distortion or fluctuation in its shape whatsoever.”

“So is it man made or a natural occurrence of some sort?” queried Adam.

“We weren’t absolutely certain at first, which is why I woke Glen up first. Two of our advanced Canary Probes have extra equipment built into them including a small PTP transit drive. We sent one of them into this ‘sphere of nothing’ to take a closer look around.”

“If nothing else, we were going to verify that standard Point-to-Point still works,” commented Glen. “The Canary’s trip was successful, so now we know that if our attempts at CAS re-initialization fail, it may take a little longer but we will eventually be able to move back out into normal space.” His expression was confident. “The Captain and the rest of the crew will be happy to hear about that part, at least.”

Adam leaned thoughtfully against Julie’s desk and took another drink from his coffee cup, carefully studying the enlarged picture of the dark sphere. “So don’t keep me in suspense – what did the Canary find?” he asked excitedly.

“This,” Julie said enthusiastically, handing him a third picture. The new photo had a computer date and time stamp in the lower right corner, information that was automatically supplied by the Probe’s camera. Other than that the image was completely black except for the object in its center.

“It looks like a ring of gold,” observed Adam. “It’s just a simple oval.”

“The photo was taken at an angle,” pointed out Julie. “But we were able to use our computer system to estimate that when viewed from above, this golden ring appears to be a near-perfect circle.”

“But what is it?”

“That is a small, artificially constructed galaxy containing approximately four and a half billion yellow stars similar to our own back in the Milky Way,” Dr. Markham continued. “The circular ring of stars is 80,000 light years in diameter and – like the spherical void surrounding it – the star cluster’s shape is simple geometrical perfection.”

“So it has no spiral arms like a standard galaxy?”

“Nope,” Julie grinned. “And no red giants, no blue giants and no black holes other than the super-massive one at its center. This is a man-made galaxy specifically built to contain stars capable of holding habitable planets in a stable orbit.” Her expression was one of pure delight. “Someone has technology that is so far beyond ours, it’s… well, more than I would’ve ever hoped to run across. Finding Poseidon was an astronomer’s dream, but this… the engineering involved in creating this is absolutely awe-inspiring.”

“The inhabitants have to be the people who sent us the mystery transmission,” Adam decided, his enthusiasm growing as he continued to carefully examine the detailed photographs that he held in his hands. “They have to be!”

“That’s very likely,” Dr. Markham agreed. “It’s just one of the reasons that Glen and I decided to wake you. We’re still wondering whether we should wake the Captain too.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Adam objected. “He had a pretty rough morning yesterday helping Colonel Neeland deal with crowd control during that deck four situation. I say we let him get his rest, if for no other reason than to give your team the time they need to gather more facts.” He turned his attention to Glen. “How far away are we from this galaxy?”

“If we continue to drift, we’re still weeks away,” responded Glen. “But if we power up our engines we could be there within a couple of days. The Captain will have to decide that one.”

“We’ll likely get a decision from him soon,” Julie commented, continuing to behave more excitedly than they had ever seen her. “Captain Kaufield is due in the Command Dome at 0600 this morning, so I guess you could say we have a little surprise for him.”

20: XIX: Terra Firma

THE PATHFINDER PROJECT

Chapter XIX: Terra Firma

Dr. Julie Markham sat quietly in the Observatory, absolutely elated. One short week after encountering an extremely advanced alien civilization the Pathfinder was moving quickly toward the home galaxy of their newfound friends. That is – she mentally noted – the small but profoundly elegant galaxy that was completely man-made and organized into its current structure long ago by human people just like themselves. She could still remember the stunned expression on Adam’s face when the Captain had first introduced them to Noah.

As if things couldn’t get any crazier, that was about the same time Colonel Neeland showed up to notify Kaufield that an undetected, unknown shuttle had docked on the starboard side of deck one and successfully gained access to their airlock. One of the passengers had discovered the small ship by accident, happening to glance out a window from just the right vantage point. Noah had chuckled at the discovery of his ship and then waved his hands while saying “Surprise!”

She held another gift from Noah… a printed image that he had given to her created using the same software as the original mystery universe transmission. The difference this time was that the picture was a simple but effective diagram of the Proteus galaxy – as she had officially dubbed it. At its center was a standard super-massive black hole, but unlike a regular galaxy’s gravity vortex this one was very carefully monitored and artificially controlled.

The alien society had somehow managed to gather together much of the matter from the older stars and other nearby objects that they had deemed unusable and packaged it into a series of incredibly massive spheres. The largest of the spheres was precisely situated directly above the central black hole so that the gravity well could slowly drain matter into its swirling whirlpool – but at an extremely slow and carefully controlled rate.

Beneath the nuclear bulge at the bottom of the black hole was a smaller sphere of condensed matter – still unbelievably huge by their measurement standards. By her estimation Julie predicted it was at least several thousand light years in diameter. This one was apparently unaffected by the immense pocket of gravity above it and seemed to occupy its position solely to counterbalance the black hole’s gravity and help to keep it stabilized.

Then there was that beautiful ring of yellow stars orbiting the center of the Proteus galaxy with near geometric perfection. With well over four and a half billion of them floating out there, she couldn’t even begin to guess as to how many habitable planets might be among them… particularly after Noah had informed her that his civilization was quite capable of constructing and then terra-forming planetary bodies as well. He had described the galaxy as a vital ‘observation point’ that his people had built for the express purpose of observing the Poseidon phenomenon.

Unlike the other galactic objects in their universe that were constantly in motion and had the natural tendency to alter course based on gravimetric conditions, the Proteus black hole was ‘tethered’ to one spot and virtually stationary. The only real movement came from the stars that continually rotated in a circular orbit around it. Then there was that huge, empty black void that surrounded the entire galaxy, designed to function just like Julie’s ‘rock in the stream’ analogy. The void was basically a no-gravity barrier that protected the inhabitants of Proteus while allowing them to carefully monitor and study the effects of Poseidon’s intense gravity on the universe.

Orbiting outside of the ring of stars were more of the gigantic spheres of matter, each carefully kept in storage for use in replenishing the larger, central sphere that fueled the black hole. Noah had also commented that some of this matter was also occasionally tapped to ‘refuel’ stars that were older and entering the latter stage of their lifespan. It was an extremely educational point that had prompted Julie to ask just how old the newly discovered civilization was.

Their alien friend could not say for certain but did point out that his people had been around for years that numbered in the millions. Would they ever run out of matter to keep their black hole and ring of stars stabilized? Not likely, was Dr. Markham’s final determination upon further study. Noah’s people were experts at gathering together the cooling blue giants, dying stars and massive dust clouds of nebulae that continually floated past them in the river of gravity. They currently had all of the matter and energy that they needed, so the rest was simply allowed to continue moving past them on its steady course directly out of the known universe.

Amidst the enthusiasm over the original discovery of Poseidon had come this additional delight – even shock – over finding such an advanced civilization so safely tucked away in one of the nastiest pockets of gravity ever charted. The entire past few weeks had been more than Dr. Markham could ever possibly have imagined, and she had resolved to personally take advantage of every opportunity available to her. The rest of the Observatory staff continued to work diligently in support of her efforts, carefully executing both the short- and long-term objectives that she found herself continually developing for them.

To make matters stranger, it turned out that the energy field used by the aliens to generate the three million light year spherical void around the Proteus galaxy was yet another contributing factor to their CAS singularity problems. It had the tendency to aggravate surrounding matter, thereby generating at least some of the interference that had forced Glen and Thomas to begin making constant adjustments as the Pathfinder approached the area. Upon their arrival within Poseidon’s river, the massive dampening field had also been the major reason that the CAS systems had overloaded… not the intense gravity of Poseidon and its captured galactic objects as originally speculated. This was the reason Noah had used his shuttle to approach and dock with them, since the small ship’s sophisticated computer system was currently nullifying the protective field’s effects on the Pathfinder and allowing it to CAS transit directly into the Proteus galaxy.

On the 152^nd day since their ship had left the Milky Way, Julie was unable to contain her enthusiasm and made the decision to get up extra early again. She spent the first half hour in the Observatory shaking her head in wonder as she continued to review the diagram that Noah had given her. This time she was comparing the picture with actual images taken using the Pathfinder’s telescopes during her off-hours. The golden ring of stars was the only part of the galaxy visible to them without the aid of gravity measuring equipment. The exact size and placement of the giant matter ‘spheres’ was practically undetectable to them even when utilizing the non-traditional methods of detecting and locating dark matter. Whatever type of energy that Noah’s people were using to trap and contain the matter in those massive balloons was also immune to its gravity.

“Good morning Dr. Markham,” Kari said to her as she entered the Observatory and took a seat at her desk. Julie looked at her in disbelief, wondering what in the world her young assistant was doing up at 5:30 a.m. on a Friday morning. Then she thought back a few days and nodded knowingly to herself as she remembered the small signs she had observed in the past couple of weeks that Kari and Thomas had escalated their relationship.

“Good morning,” she replied back. “Was it your turn to use the shower first?”

“I beg your pardon Doctor?” Kari said innocently, ignoring the bait and beginning to sort through the growing backlog of files on her desk. It was almost a complete turnaround for her… on any normal day the young lady’s desk was usually spotless before she ended a prior day’s shift. To actually have piles of documentation beginning to accumulate was unheard of.

“It just seems as though you have a lot on your mind lately,” Julie said as they continued to work in the mostly deserted Observatory. There were still some night personnel on duty and she noted a few others had also decided to start their day early. Between Poseidon and Proteus her staff had gotten just what they needed – a thrilling diversion to occupy their time and help them forget about the devastating Brotherhood attack that had taken away their homes.

“Thomas is a great guy… I’m glad we met and paired up before everybody else started to,” Kari said, smiling. “From what I’ve heard, a lot of people have already chosen significant others – we’re going to have a lot of children on this ship very soon.”

“I know,” Julie said with a cheerful smile. “It will be a great sight to see.”

They both looked at each other in puzzlement as the Pathfinder’s hull suddenly trembled a little and then steadied. Usually the ship’s course was extremely stable – several additional, larger tremors shook the large starship again before everything returned to normal.

“Are they testing the CAS Drive settings again?” Kari asked.

“I don’t know,” Dr. Markham replied. “I wouldn’t think that they would want to try while we’re inside the void around Proteus. My understanding was that they had it working well enough to transit us into the galaxy. After that, we were going to rendezvous with Noah’s people and open formal negotiations or something.”

Around them the rumbling continued and Kari quickly picked her coffee cup up before it could spill liquid all over her paperwork. The all-call suddenly beeped, followed almost instantly by the Captain’s voice.

“Good morning everyone,” said Kaufield cheerfully. “I’m sorry to wake you this early but we’ve had an opportunity presented to us that I couldn’t pass up. Everyone whose shift just ended can go back to sleep, but the rest of you might want to get started a little earlier than usual this morning. I think you’re going to find it an interesting day.”

The Pathfinder continued to rumble forward to whatever destination the Captain had planned for it. Julie and Kari simply exchanged looks of disbelief at his sudden mysterious behavior before returning to their work. They were still busy twenty minutes later when more turbulence – a sudden burst this time – shook the ship again. Almost immediately they could hear the sound of the engines shutting down. Kari slowly walked over to one of the open observatory windows and took a good look outside before glancing curiously over her shoulder at Dr. Markham. Julie herself had an odd expression on her face.

“I’m pretty certain we just landed,” Kari said, astonished.

*     * * *     *

Kaufield was in Observation Dome One, still posing question after question to his new friend Noah. He was standing next to one of the large window ports in the room watching the ship’s passengers – slowly at first but then more confidently – begin to migrate out of the Pathfinder via the lifts in the front landing skid and out onto the dew-covered green grass of the meadow that they had landed in. Off to the west a brand new day was dawning, with a golden orange sun beginning to peek over the horizon at a partially-cloudy morning.

During their abrupt departure from the Sol-system, the auxiliary lifts on all three landing skids had been available. Since that time, the rear two that were attached to the tips of the Lab and Observation wings had been off-limits. This time only the forward skid was accessible to the disembarking passengers, but it still didn’t take very long before there was a large crowd of people standing near the front of the ship taking in the fresh air and sights of a beautiful morning on this new, previously uncharted planet. It made the Captain happy to see his passengers and crew getting a chance to really get out and ‘stretch their legs’… he had every intention of joining them, once business was done.

“Your artwork is exquisite,” Noah commented, pointing to a series of paintings that hung on one wall next to the conference room’s table. Each of them was a very accurate representation of a period in Earth’s history. Some depicted famous battles and had lots of advancing warriors, while others showed scenic farms and ancient cities. The rest of the collection consisted of fourteen precise renderings of famous historical figures.

“They were all done by a famous artist from Earth related to my family line,” pointed out Kaufield. “She is – was – one of the most prolific artists of my generation, gifted with vision and able to produce painting after painting with the same quality as her first. The government asked her to create this series for a historical project that they had in mind, but I took a tour of their museum with my son just after I received the assignment to command this project and asked that they be moved to the Pathfinder. We had no idea at the time just how long our journey would take, so I wanted there to be some anchors to our culture that we could use to teach our children while we were away from home.”  

“And now after just 152 days, here you are,” Noah grinned.

“I still don’t know that much about your people,” Dennis decided, glancing at the cheerful older man standing next to him. “I mean, if your society is truly millions of years old…”

“… then how come we haven’t evolved past humanoids in some manner… ascended to a higher plane of existence or something?” He smiled, pondering the question carefully as he walked slowly over to the window on the opposite side of the room as the one the Captain stood next to. They both watched the passengers spread out on both sides of the ship, all of them joyfully soaking up the warmth from the planet’s morning sun.

“Well, now that you’ve raised the question…”

“Look at your people,” Noah said proudly, waving at the images in the room’s window. “At this moment the members of your Observatory staff might disagree, but there is truly nothing greater than the human adventure. Our capacity to feel, to express emotion, to enjoy a lovely morning like this one, to labor hard and long in the fields to produce food – it is unparalleled in the boundaries of our exploration. And my culture has done a lot of exploring, Captain!”

“So you are human beings just like us?” wondered Dennis.

“Oh yes, your Dr. Simmons has verified most assuredly that I am indeed human… right down to my blood type,” Noah said with a grin. “She has scanned me, poked me, tested my blood and verified that much for you.” He flashed the Captain a puzzled look. “Why, did you expect me to have three arms, an oddly-shaped forehead, or an extra bone above my nose… something like that?”

“No,” Dennis decided. “However, after traveling billions of light years over the past few months I just hadn’t expected to come all this way only to find additional humans… that’s all.”

“We like to organize our people into law abiding civilizations and enjoy life in the same manner that your people do,” Noah said. “My father was a farmer and his father could do wonders with electronics. We have horses and dogs and cats and other animals just like your people do. Me, I have a garden… half of it is dedicated to growing fresh produce like tomatoes and cucumbers and the other half is reserved for beautiful flowers and bushes.”

Dennis noticed that his new friend looked a bit fatigued. “I’m sorry if we’ve had so many questions,” he said sincerely, offering Noah a chair. “It’s just that we have a lot of scientific specialists on board…” They both sat down at the table across from one another.

“You don’t have to apologize,” Noah insisted. “Our people had the same unbridled curiosity when we first began our exploration of the universe. I can understand how Dr. Simmons wants to know if I’m human like you and why Dr. Markham wants to know how we generate the energy field that creates the void around the Proteus galaxy. If I had just begun a journey out of my galaxy and found another artificially constructed in the manner that ours is, I think I would be able to come up with a few questions of my own.”

“They were so eager to talk to you about all of their technical stuff that I decided to wait with my own questions,” admitted Dennis. “You don’t mind if I record our conversation I hope?” he asked, watching the other man wave favorably at his audio recorder. He switched it on. “Our Council will want to review our discussion in detail.”

“No doubt they will. You have handled your responsibilities quite well Captain,” decided Noah. “Particularly concerning the recent challenges your people have faced… I find you to be a very strong man and a good leader for your people.”

“How much do you know?” Kaufield asked. “I mean, we could tell by that first diagram you sent to us that you knew exactly where we came from. It was obvious that you knew the location of our home galaxy…”

“Correct. Once the Point-to-Point technique is used to travel more than a few hundred thousand light years, it becomes extremely easy to detect over long distances, if you know what to watch for. We are experts at tracking the unknown anomalies that appear randomly in our universe. Once we knew you were there, we sent probes of our own to study you and were able to extract information on your recent history directly from your computer systems.”

“Some might consider that spying, or even a hostile act.”

“Yes they would,” Noah admitted. “But we’ve discovered over the years that anyone who truly values peace over violence usually has nothing to hide. The technique allows us to rapidly learn what we need to know about your culture – language, customs, etc. – so that we can more efficiently speed up the initial contact process and open relations with you more quickly. Or would you have preferred we continue to tempt you with clues for another few years?”

“No, this is better and we don’t have to spend a year or more developing a common language,” Dennis found himself having to admit.

“You see,” Noah grinned, holding out his hands. “You have no idea how many civilizations scattered out there would have tried to shoot us rather than recognize the advantages of the situation.”

“Like those idiots in the wasteland galaxy,” Kaufield said, remembering the Pathfinder’s clash with the alien warriors very vividly.

“Precisely. You were headed in their general direction, about to encounter them. That was one of the primary reasons I transmitted the first picture to you when I did. You were about to discover that you were not alone in the universe and – given their long-term hostile nature – I wanted to make certain you had at least some warning.”

“Then your people have the power to stop that war, and the Brotherhood back home…”

Noah held up his forefinger and waved it in warning. “My people have to be very careful about interfering with cultures that are not a direct threat to us,” he said cautiously. “They – and you – have the right to develop and mature over time just like we did. Those intelligent races that cannot learn to live peacefully with each other are almost always selected for extinction by nature. They inevitably bring it upon themselves.”

“Like we did when we warred with each other over the years?”

“No one can judge you but you, Captain. Yours is one of the most unique situations that I have ever encountered. Not many races become advanced enough to experiment with artificial intelligence, cloning, genetic enhancements or other things of that nature. But there have been other worlds, like yours, that have tried to create a superior form of human. It almost always backfires, because the universe so easily counterbalances itself. Make a man stronger physically and he might find himself hindered more greatly than a normal man if he contracts a muscle disease… that sort of thing. Increase his intelligence tenfold and his ego will almost always increase as well until he gains too much self-confidence and loses the capacity for common sense and humility.”

“My people’s history has always been quite violent,” Kaufield admitted. “Based on what I saw during the nuclear annihilation of my planet, I’m not certain we even have the capacity to move beyond… it takes real effort to make peace and not war. Often times we look to our God for guidance.”

“God,” Noah echoed pleasantly. “He varies with many civilizations – many of them believe in more than one. But most, especially after time, most invariably end up choosing one God and believe all others to be false idols. Earth’s many belief systems tend to mirror that of many other cultures… more so than even I might expect them to. Why do you think that everyone throughout the universe, even those as long-lived as my people, end up believing in a Creator?”

“I don’t know,” said Kaufield honestly. “A year ago I was a humble Project leader living on Earth’s moon.”

The alien laughed delightedly. “Your point is well made, Captain. Think though… this Brotherhood that destroyed your world has its own belief system too… with the single exception that they distort or ignore what they do not agree with in order to justify the terrible violence that they inflicted against your people.”

“Father Dixon and I are pretty much on the same page as far as conflicting belief systems are concerned. We both have always felt that how we treat each other is far more important than what kind of God we worship or how many times we go to Church in our lives. That’s why I requested him for this assignment, because we have a common history and faith.”

“Many of my people would agree with you, Captain. We’re not perfect either, but we try the best we can to do good deeds on our worlds each and every day.”

“Do you know if there are people on Earth still alive?”

“Yes. There are many refugees on Earth, many of them regrouping and resisting the control imposed on them by the Triumvirate that leads the Brotherhood of the Dragon. They are vastly outnumbered and lack weapons and supplies, but continue to fight back nonetheless. The Brotherhood grows more restive with each passing day, and I can tell you they are not treating the survivors very honorably. They continue to waste humanity’s precious gift of life at a rate that is truly appalling.”

“I knew it,” Dennis said spitefully. “I knew there were survivors… we simply couldn’t fight our way through the entire Brotherhood fleet in order to help them.” His look of concern touched Noah deeply. “Can your society help us stop our enemy?”

“No, I’m very sorry Dennis but we cannot participate in your war,” Noah said firmly. “We could have intervened at the very outset in the battle for your Earth, but then we would bear the consequences for everything that happens after.” He waved a hand at all that surrounded them. “The Proteus galaxy has many alien people living amongst our own. Most of these are refugees from wars on their own worlds, people who climbed aboard ships just as you did and found their way into our influence. What they left behind remains as it is… we did not interfere with the wars on their home worlds, either.”

“What about my people?”

“All of the crew and passengers from the Pathfinder are welcome to stay here with us,” Noah promised. “We have plenty of planets for you to choose from and begin rebuilding your culture. This planet in particular is well-suited for your needs – that’s one of the reasons I brought you here. And if some day you become strong enough and choose to go home and renew your conflict with the Brotherhood, well…” he paused, shaking his head in disgust at the mere thought of the nuclear holocaust that was now part of Earth’s history. “…well, I wouldn’t blame you one bit,” he said with a matter-of-factness that made Dennis feel better.

“It just doesn’t seem fair,” the Captain commented. “There’s so much we will have that the survivors back home will not. They at least deserve some kind of sign, some kind of hope…”

“Do not misunderstand, Captain Kaufield. Just because we choose not to participate in your war does not mean we will abandon your people entirely. Those who survived the nuclear assault will need help.”

“And you are offering it?”

“I am. My people will work with yours to bring anyone who wishes to come here to Proteus.”

“You have no idea how grateful I am to hear you say that. It lifts a huge burden from my mind.”

Noah bowed modestly. “You are welcome, Captain.”

Kaufield’s thoughts drifted. “I still find it difficult to believe that you simply sit back and observe things like that battle in the wasteland,” the Captain observed curiously. “For God’s sake, they’re destroying entire stars in that galaxy! Thousands of stars… a hideous waste of lives, resources and potentially habitable planets.”

“Yes, those people are extremely violent and their damage has spread like a living plague – but as you have noticed we have a pretty big universe surrounding us,” replied Noah calmly. “If they choose to continue their path toward total extermination then we will eventually be able to salvage the cooling matter from that galaxy and use it to replenish dying stars whose orbiting planets contain peaceful civilizations. Ultimately, it is their choice, not ours. Nature has a way of patiently outlasting the more aggressive, less compassionate species.”

“Your offer to accept us into your fold is very kind. How, may I ask, will you help the people struggling on Earth?” Yet again, Kaufield tried to come up with the right answer to this recurring situation he had been trying to solve since his decision to flee the Sol-system, but again he found himself stymied.

“If you’ll permit me to share a few observations I may be able to help you with that too,” said Noah with a smile. “You were obviously hallucinating the night I met you, so I only heard one side of your conversation with the sofa in your quarters.” They both chuckled at the recent memory. “But it seems to me that you were beginning to recognize the importance of keeping at least this part of your civilization alive and thriving and safe – if only to guarantee that your culture as a whole survives. What could be more important than that, after all?”

“As my ‘wife’ reminded me, what is more important than the long-term happiness of my son?”

“Exactly,” Noah emphasized. “As you may have noticed, if we decided to begin helping every civilization in trouble throughout this massive universe of ours we would become spread so thinly that we would eventually risk extinction ourselves… or we might spread  mass chaos while trying to impose order on everything we touch. Remember, that is what the Brotherhood’s Triumvirate believes it will accomplish on Earth… by controlling everything they touch they believe they can make things better.”

“They are an abomination,” Captain Kaufield decided with a bit of defiance. “It takes a special kind of evil to deliberately initiate a nuclear holocaust.” He fell silent for a moment and then blurted out, "Or to destroy whole stars and the worlds orbiting them."

“Yes it does.”

Noah stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Then consider this. Many thousands of years ago my people watched the early Earth inhabitants move through a progressive series of covenants with an unknown entity – one which we cannot track and had no prior knowledge of. This entity claimed it was the one true God that shaped and designed our universe. At first this God was very harsh and brutal to the violent and sinful people that lived on Earth. Over the years, as they began to mature, He made and kept additional promises to them that were both merciful and gentle.” The elder man paused carefully to watch Dennis’ reaction. “Your scientists think galactic objects like Poseidon and Proteus are a marvelous discovery… the greatest your science has ever found. Well, we created Proteus, and yet we’ve never seen anything quite like the history that took place on Earth during this time. This God sent his own Son to teach and guide them toward a path of peace and enlightenment, and that man sacrificed himself for those beliefs so that all souls born after him – regardless of their sins, might live an eternal life of peace.”

“What does that have to do with…?”

“Don’t you see…?” Noah asked him. “The Brotherhood is choosing, for the moment, to ignore the message of that one God, but given time they might recognize their own short-sightedness and choose to embrace Him. The Triumvirate never will, but its Brotherhood members each have a choice to make as they now must deal, on a daily basis, with the consequences of their actions. After all the time my people have existed, we still have not reliably answered the same question that has plagued you throughout your entire trip out here: Is the very fabric of our universe an Intelligent Design? The Earth God is the closest we’ve come to solving that mystery, which is one of the reasons we ‘tempted’ your ship in our general direction. You have a link to Him that cannot be denied.”

“The majority of my people truly believe in a God,” Dennis said firmly. “I don’t see any of that changing, especially given what you’ve just told me about the uniqueness of His presence on our world.”

“Why should it?” Noah asked curiously. “Your culture deserves its heritage just like any other. Other races living in this galaxy worship multiple Gods, but some of them have chosen to adopt and have faith in this Earth God. My people themselves have many religions that have explored thousands of possibilities, and even after millions of years with all of our advancements, we’re still not certain and cannot conclusively prove that the universe was Intelligently Designed.” He casually interlocked the fingers of both hands and leaned his chin forward onto them. “That does not stop us from trying to learn more about creation.”

“What if this Earth God was simply an alien using technology superior to your own?” queried Kaufield. “Suppose it wasn’t a deity at all?”

“There is that possibility of course. What then, truly defines a deity, if not the creation of a universe? Remember, it is the simple power of faith that has always had the unique ability to heal emotional wounds that normally would be permanently irreparable. Even in Earth’s recent history, many of its warlike cultures have perpetrated very barbaric acts against each other before eventually forming bonds of lasting peace… a peace based solely on the history and example of the simple actions of this God and his Son. In each and every war your species was headed down the wrong path, and then something almost miraculous happened – many times a small thing – to tip the balance back on the side of those with compassion. Do you think it is a coincidence that your CAS technology came on-line at the exact time that you needed it to in order to execute your escape? Do you think it is coincidental that the man who saved you from the wasteland attack almost lost his life in a suicide attempt, but somehow miraculously survived to help you defend your ship?”

“Do you?”

“I do not know,” admitted Noah. “Which is why I keep searching for He who does hold these answers. I have seen much in my life, including miracles.”

“Now you’re talking about divine intervention,” Kaufield sharply pointed out. “That’s a whole new discussion.”

“Anything is possible.” Noah pointed again to the paintings on the wall. “During your history, weren’t some of your conquered cultures destroyed when every surviving man, woman and child was put ‘to the sword’?” He watched the pain in Dennis’ eyes carefully. “We were here then and could have intervened there too… aren’t you glad we didn’t? Your entire history would be different if we had…” He sighed deeply. “Your civilization was thriving, mostly because it was left alone and allowed to develop and mature at its own pace… including the wars which are preventable by people like us. If you want to learn more about our history I’m perfectly willing to show you some data on the times – during the years when we first gained technology – where we did intervene in the affairs of others. We didn’t like having to live with the consequences of our actions and, after discovering Poseidon, we made a decision to build a vantage point from which we could observe and limit its destructive effects on the matter that comprises our universe. That vantage point is now home to thousands of different races.”

“So you’re saying that the Brotherhood’s war is just another step in humanity’s development on Earth?”

“Captain, they have the same right that your society did to conquer and destroy other cultures in order to learn from those mistakes and mature beyond the need for war into a more peaceful and tolerant society.”

“I hope you don’t expect me to agree with that assessment of the situation?”

“No I do not. But all new developing civilizations are the same Captain. A very long time ago, my people were in the same situation that yours are now in. We survived by learning from our mistakes and making better, more peaceful choices, over time. Each member of this Brotherhood must realize for himself that its objectives are evil.”

“That’s a very evolutionary point of view,” countered Kaufield. “It sounds as though you’re talking about ‘survival of the fittest’. Simply because the Brotherhood built up a huge military and pulled a sneak attack, you’re advocating that their strength in exploiting our weaknesses justifies their survival. By destroying my people they’ve earned the right to learn from their mistakes?” He shook his head with disgust. “How closely have you observed them? They might as well be emotionless, murdering robots.”

“The man you have confined on deck four of this ship is not.”

“His presence creates a dilemma for me,” Kaufield said. “We can’t attack the Brotherhood without his help. And without that help the Triumvirate will never allow its humanoid clones to become fully human. There’s no way to win, here.”

“As its territory expands, the Triumvirate will be unable to keep at least some of its clones from discovering what it’s like to be human,” Noah argued. “Resistance will grow, Captain. Their new civilization is no different from any other – if they continue to be evil then their anger and hatred will turn them on each other. I have seen it with my own eyes… already their transformation has begun. Perhaps waking up each day to a nuclear-scarred horizon was the catalyst, or maybe it was something else entirely.”

“Regardless of what happens to their society, ours has still been swept aside,” Kaufield said disdainfully. “You’ve watched cultures kill and destroy each other for millions of years with nothing ever changing.”

“Something has changed,” insisted Noah. “We are offering to let your people stay with us and rebuild your culture in complete safety. I think you’ll agree that this will take a tremendous amount of time, time which will give the situation on Earth the opportunity to resolve itself. Eventually the Brotherhood’s reign of terror on Earth will end. They will stop themselves, one way or the other.”

“What if Earth is destroyed by more wars and left completely uninhabitable in the process? It is, after all, our home.”

“I don’t have clairvoyant capabilities, Captain, but I do have good instincts and they tell me the Brotherhood will find that particular task extremely difficult. There is something unbelievably spiritual happening with that planet – it is unique and a huge melting pot of everything that is good and bad about sentient life.”

“We’ll rebuild our population and our Fleet,” Kaufield said simply. “Then we’ll go back and reclaim our home world… you said you wouldn’t stop us from doing so.”

“As I said, Captain, I’ve had a lot of experience with situations like yours. I can look in your eyes and see a man of peace, one who still has doubts about the decisions that were made during the attack in the wasteland galaxy. Those people were going to board your ship and kill your people and yet you still mourn the fact that you had to take their lives in order to defend the Pathfinder. Your people deserve a chance to thrive again.” He paused, watching the Captain carefully. “It will take a long time to rebuild your population after such a thorough nuclear war. When that occurs, if your leadership is still determined to go back and renew its war against the Brotherhood… we will not stop you. But I think that you will look into the eyes of your children and grandchildren and decide that the Triumvirate can clean up its own mess. You and your population will be safe here.”

“Considering the fact that we were going to pick a habitable planet randomly and start completely over, the offer of help is greatly appreciated,” Dennis decided. “Of course we could still choose to continue our journey and look for other allies who will help us fight back.”

“Captain…” Noah said, sounding a bit disappointed. “I’ve visited your Garden and Livestock wings – your people have truly done a remarkable job in simulating a thriving planetary environment. But what you need is here. All you will find out there are a lot of empty galaxies and lifeless planets. There is a lot of life in the universe, but it is scattered so completely and randomly that the full truth would astonish you. That’s one of the reasons we chose to place our Proteus galaxy near the Poseidon gravity well – it gives us the opportunity to lead a quiet life of study while the gravity river acts like a giant arrow pointing refugees and peaceful explorers toward our quiet little corner of the universe.”

“What about hostile explorers, like the aliens in the wasteland galaxy?”

“We’ve encountered some of those people, too. You’ll notice that we are still here.”

Dennis thought for a moment. “What about Patrick Warren or other enemies. If you allow refugees from Earth to come here, Brotherhood spies already in place might follow them here.”

“We can certainly identify and relocate the clones for you to one or more of our own societies where they can live a decent life,” offered Noah. He watched the Captain think the matter over.

“No,” decided the Captain. “They’re our problem. It’s our responsibility to make sure that they pay the debts for their crimes to our society, and to make sure they get a second chance after they have done so.”

“Your mercy toward Mr. Warren is a great demonstration of compassion,” decided Noah. He quickly held up a hand as Dennis opened his mouth to reply. “I know… I know most of your crew would probably injure or even kill him were it not for your laws and the military that enforces them. But compassion is what always separates a true leader from the common man. It is also the center of all positive values that keep civilizations like yours alive.”

There was a long pause as Dennis Kaufield, Captain of the Pathfinder, carefully considered the offer that had been presented to him. He stood up and shook Noah’s hand warmly, shutting off the tape recorder as he did so. “I will pass your offer along to our Council along with my recommendation that they accept it,” he said confidently. “If they approve, we’ll have to start thinking of a name for our new planet.”

“It already has a name,” Noah said with a hint of satisfaction in his voice at Kaufield’s positive reaction to his offer. “The native word for this planet in my language translates to “Tranquility” in yours.”

“The faces of those we left behind will haunt me until they receive assistance.”

“I am monitoring the situation, Captain. You and I will assist them with dispatch. Will you trust me?”

“Do I have a choice?”

Noah chose not to reply to the question. Instead he pointed toward the swelling crowd outside. “Select your best military people to begin planning a rescue, and I will review their strategy. In the meantime, there is something else that you should consider planning for… something that will not take long at all to complete.” Noah watched his reaction with an expression filled with mischief. “Don’t you want to give Dr. Markham and her associates the opportunity to complete your project’s primary objective?”

“What do you mean?” asked Dennis curiously.

“With Point-to-Point transit alone, even with your CAS Drive enhancements, you’ll never manage to approach the actual leading edge of our universe for any decent length of time,” stated Noah informatively. “Not only is the shock wave moving at light speed, but the normal laws of physics also begin to break down as you approach. However,” he said, smiling warmly. “…by utilizing my shuttle one more time I can place the Pathfinder directly behind the outer edge for any duration that you specify, giving your specialists as long as they need to take a unique look at what lies beyond.”

“That sounds like another recommendation that will probably go over well with the Council,” the Captain mused wryly. “Particularly with Julie Markham – she’s going to want to kiss you or… jump your bones or… something.”

“I consider myself forewarned Captain,” grinned Noah happily.

“But we are going to help the refugees back in the Sol-system.”

“We will do so immediately after your Council accepts our treaty.”

Kaufield carefully glanced out one of the Observation windows again just to confirm his suspicions. “Of course,” he said slowly, turning back toward his new friend, “We’re going to have to figure out how to convince everyone to get back on board, first.”

Sol-system, 154 days after the attack…

Sitting dourly in his private quarters on board the United States Lexington, Admiral James Henry tried to continue his ongoing study of the Sol-system. Everything was mapped out for him very colorfully – planetary orbits, suspected locations of Brotherhood vessels and – of course – Earth’s current position relative to theirs. He had been trying to justify ordering what would in fact be a suicide mission not so subtly disguised as an attack on the enemy for several hours now. A seasoned, battle hardened veteran, Henry was not the type of man to be indecisive in situations such as this one. Earth’s nations, however, had been so totally surprised by the unexpected appearance of the Brotherhood that there had been no opportunity to prepare a practical military response. There had been no sign recently that any other military ships had survived.

One hundred and fifty-four days now, the Admiral thought somewhat bitterly to himself. He still commanded a small fleet of nine ships, but the mysterious Triumvirate had settled into a patient waiting mode back on Earth. They were fighting a war of attrition now, knowing that surviving vessels like Henry’s fleet were slowly running out of food, fuel and water. Meanwhile, they were busy setting up some sort of new global government, more than likely enslaving or killing off any survivors who got in their way. With the fleet’s supplies lower than they had ever been, the only remaining option was clear. The Admiral believed that the right thing to do would be to return to Earth and make a last stand before they lost the will and physical strength to fight.

We can at least give them a black eye, he reflected sullenly. Perhaps even two.

They were hiding in the asteroid belt that orbited the sun between Mars and Jupiter. After the initial rendezvous at Neptune, Henry had chosen the new location because there were so many asteroids. They were supposedly material left over from the natural creation of planetary bodies and ringed the sun. Trying to detect nine space vessels within all the floating debris was an impossible task, even for the Brotherhood. Henry hated the prospect of losing to them even more so because he believed them to be much more of a bully than a warrior. The only reason that they had succeeded in their plan to smash Earth and its military forces was because they had relied almost totally upon stealth and surprise. In a straight out fight, once the Lexington’s computer systems had been cleared of sabotage code, the Brotherhood had lost every engagement since the initial attack.

That included the many traps that had been set within the solar system, where the Brotherhood routinely issued random distress calls and then waited for surviving ships to show up. They had picked off a precious capital vessel or two from the Admiral’s small fleet over the past few months, but had suffered heavy losses in the process. His ships had traveled inward, toward those distress calls, fully expecting traps and been ready and willing to respond. Unfortunately there weren’t enough military assets left in place to make a difference. No matter what he did or how violent his fleet’s reprisal, there was simply no way to overcome the Brotherhood fleet and survive long enough to make any difference back on Earth.

It’s time to paste them one last time and then move on to the next life, the Admiral concluded glumly.

He was interrupted by a knock on his cabin door, and the sound of it sparked him into action. Great military leaders were supposed to think things through and make informed decisions, but if he lurked in his quarters too long then his people might get the mistaken impression that he was hiding. Walking over to the door, he opened it swiftly and found himself staring into the wan, fatigued face of his Executive Officer. “You’re wanted in the Command Center, Admiral,” Matthew Burns informed him. “There is an unidentified ship in the area, moving directly toward us on an interception course.”

“Have they launched fighters?” he asked as the two of them walked together toward the nearby lift.

“That is what is odd about this situation, sir,” grunted Burns humorlessly. “The vessel is transmitting a United States ID on the proper military frequency, identifying itself as the U.S. Pathfinder.”

“We don’t have a vessel named Pathfinder,” Henry growled in response. “At least not yet. There was someone working on the moon…”

“I know,” Matt Burns told him. “You allowed me to review our classified files. I’ve studied our motion sensor data on the intruder, and it appears to be the right size and shape. They transmitted a message stating that they’re here to offer assistance and transportation to a safe sanctuary.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” seethed Henry angrily. “The Brotherhood is simply toying with us again, like a cat with a mouse.”

As things turned out, the Admiral was never happier to be wrong.

After carefully locking weapons on the unknown new target and allowing the intruder to approach, they discovered that the mysterious newcomer was indeed the Pathfinder. The large exploratory vessel was under temporary command of a man named Adam Roh, and he spent more than an hour answering their many questions. Once he finished fielding questions and had convinced Admiral Henry of his sincerity, Roh subsequently proved his claims to be true by opening a large Point-to-Point window beneath his vessel and allowing one of the military ships to travel through it. The Captain of that ship, a Lorna Phillips, returned from the brief transit with an expression on her face that wiped away the last traces of doubt. Admiral Henry found himself cheering inside as everything Roh claimed did indeed turn out to be true.

“It’s absolutely unbelievable sir!” Phillips told the Admiral over fleet-Comm. “They’ve gathered together an entire fleet of surviving ships somewhere outside of our galaxy… a place called Bravo Point. I have no idea how they’re doing it, but we were there! I’ve got pictures if you need to see them! Chinese, Russians, Americans, you name it… they’re all out there. We even talked to a British Captain and noticed a couple of French vessels!”

The Admiral immediately glanced warily at Adam Roh’s image on his central monitor. “You left us for last?”

“Second to last, actually.” He shrugged his shoulders indifferently. “Your fleet was one of the best prepared and still had food and water stores in reserve,” Roh responded with a wry smile. “We’re here now, aren’t we? Shall we get moving before an enemy really does find you?”

Caught by surprise, something that rarely ever happened, the Admiral promptly agreed. One by one, the ships from his small fleet followed Lorna’s battle-scarred destroyer through the CAS window, toward this supposedly safe Bravo Point where they would receive food and water. After that the next destination, they were told, was some sort of far-away galaxy called Proteus. Once the nine ships were safely away, Adam Roh consulted a list of ships on the computer screen in front of him before glancing across the central ring of computer stations toward Ensign Long. “Plot a new transit to the coordinates I'm sending you,” he told the young man. “We’ve got some stray Russian frigates to pick up yet and then we can go back home.”

“What about Earth?” asked Long warily. “That’s where most of the survivors will be.”

“Our assignment was to locate the ships still in flight and lead them back to Proteus. You let the Captain and Noah worry about Earth,” Adam replied smugly.

21: XX: Missive

THE PATHFINDER PROJECT

Chapter XX: Missive

The Pathfinder Observatory was almost unrecognizable. Everything except for essential equipment had been shut down and all of the telescopes except one were folded up and neatly compressed into recessed ceiling storage compartments. The lights were dimmed and all the desks, computers and office equipment had been moved back against the wall near the exit hatchways. All of the windows were spread wide open and the entire room was brilliantly lit along three of the wing’s edges by the colorful patterns from Poseidon’s river. One window held a golden-orange swirling nebula, while a second boasted the twisting scarlet ribbons of a red giant spread so thinly that only an astronomer would know that it had once been a star. The view was magnificent as the Pathfinder once again had left behind a solid planetary surface in order to explore deep space.

Kaufield hadn’t been by the Lab wing, but he understood that it had been prepared for their final mission much like the Observatory. Almost half the crew had packed into it in order to admire the stellar show of force by the gravity river. The rest of them were standing here with him – in the astronomical observatory from which Dr. Julie Markham’s team had discovered so many wonders never before encountered. A little nervously he stepped up to the colorfully decorated podium that had been set up in the center of the room and tapped the microphone for attention. Joseph was at his side, looking wonderfully adolescent in a small suit and tie that fit him perfectly. Dennis himself wore a tuxedo complete with a black bow tie and he could not help but smile in anticipation of the night’s events.

“Since the days of the first wooden sailing ships,” he began, watching the happy faces surrounding him, “All Captains have enjoyed this happy privilege, that of joining together two people together in the bonds of holy matrimony.” He hesitated for a few brief seconds before turning to the man standing next to him. “Unfortunately, this particular ship’s Captain brought a Chaplain along with him who is fully capable of handling the occasion… and I wouldn’t dream of stepping on his toes.” The room filled with laughter and polite applause before a wedding march sounded in the background. Clapping politely, Captain Kaufield and his son moved down from the podium’s platform to stand next to Glen Fredericks. Glen himself wore a tuxedo and looked as nervous as Kaufield had ever seen him. He even looks paler than he did after the wasteland incident, in fact.

“Welcome friends,” said Dixon warmly, extending his hands in friendship. He waited patiently as Adam appeared from the back of the Observatory with Lieutenant Hastings at his side. Mary’s expression lit up the entire room… the cheerful face of a bride on her wedding day. Wearing a beautiful simple but elegant white wedding gown she took the arm Adam offered her and walked slowly toward Glen. As the pair reached the front of the crowd Adam politely stepped into position behind Kaufield and let Mary take her place at Glen’s side. Thomas took up a position next to his brother and grinned cheerfully.

“Who offers this woman for marriage this day?” Father Dixon asked carefully.

“I do,” responded Adam. Behind him the crowd parted again and Julie, Karen and Noriana all stepped forward, also wearing white gowns. Each was holding a beautiful bouquet of flowers from the Garden wing and they stood quietly waiting for the proceeding to continue. Glancing at his girlfriend, Adam noticed that Nori carefully held her bouquet slightly lower in order to discreetly hide her rounded belly and he made a silent mental note to make sure and tease her about the situation later.

“We also welcome new friends to our side this day,” Dixon grinned, waving his left hand toward the elderly man standing at the front of the crowd. Nodding with respect, the white-haired Noah stepped forward and took up a position next to Thomas. It had taken some doing, but they had finally located a passenger with a tuxedo that fit him. He looked very old and wise, although he had privately indicated to Kaufield that he was still a spry 71 years young.

Standing beside his beloved, Glen leaned over and whispered in her ear. “How many people have the opportunity to get married on the very edge of creation?”

“Not many from our world,” she whispered back to him. “Who knows? Perhaps we’ll start a new tradition…”

Glen smiled excitedly at her before giving the Captain and Noah a quick nod. “Transit when ready!” he told them with delight, watching Noah activate an electrical device that was attached to an armband on his sleeve. All around them, the windows lit up with an unusually bright green Point-to-Point flash and suddenly all of the brilliant color was gone. Surrounding them was the complete, empty blackness of space without even a single star to add to the dimly lit room. There were some minor “oohs” and “ahhs” from the crowd but not the reaction that everyone had expected.

“I guess we were hoping for a little more than simple darkness,” Father Dixon said with a smile and a shrug. Noah walked up onto the platform and took his place beside the Chaplain.

“Currently the systems on my shuttle have placed the Pathfinder precisely one hundred meters behind the inner edge of the blast wave from the Big-Bang explosion that created our universe,” he stated informatively. “We are still moving along with it at what you would call 1.0c, or the speed of light, in order to keep up.”

“One hundred… meters?” someone in the crowd gasped in surprise.

“Yes, and now we transit yet again…” Noah said, touching his armband computer once more and causing another familiar PTP flash to briefly light up the room. This time, however, the windows were suddenly filled with a brilliant swirling vortex of deep blue mist that rapidly shifted in hue as it collided with the ship’s hull. Tiny electrically-charged particles of bright white light glowed and danced within the fog-like atmosphere causing everyone in the crowd to react much more enthusiastically this time. There was a deep feeling of awe that circulated around the room, followed by applause and loud cheers of approval.

“It looks like fireworks except that they’re everywhere,” Kaufield heard Joseph whisper with his usual youthful zeal.

“We’re now inside the blast wave itself,” continued Noah. “This is all that is left of that densely packed matter that exploded so long ago. Back on Earth you won’t see the outer galaxies and star clusters, like Proteus, when your telescopes pick up the light waves from this distance. Because, my friends, by the time that light reaches Earth the matter you can currently see reacting with my shuttle’s energy field is almost as old as time itself. What little light telescopes can detect from this particular point in space clearly shows these dwindling clouds of matter… constantly spreading themselves thinner and thinner until gravity can begin its long process of sculpting them into the more familiar galactic objects that you’re used to seeing in the neighborhood of your Milky Way home.” As the crowd applauded with approval, Noah stepped politely aside and returned control of the floor to Father Dixon.

“Many thanks go to our new friend Noah and also to his people,” the Chaplain said proudly. “We sincerely appreciate their invitation that will allow us to stay safely with them during our time of crisis. It is also most kind of him to give us this opportunity to hold our first shipboard wedding on the very edge of the Creation from which we have all sprung forth.” He turned his attention back to Mary and Glen. “Now then,” he said with a Chaplain’s confidence as the sparkling blue fog continued to swirl merrily around the ship. “Do you, Glen Fredericks, take this woman…”

Later that evening the dance part of the ceremony was in full swing. Mary Fredericks smiled with pure joy as she danced slowly with her new husband Glen. Band music filled the makeshift ballroom with a cheerful atmosphere, while the sparkling, intermittent white traces from the outside view continued to captivate most of the guests. Mary no longer saw it… she simply looked into Glen’s deep brown eyes and continued to dance with delight, feeling safe and secure for the first time in almost six months. Gently he spun her as they moved, and she gracefully allowed herself to twirl away from him until she held only his fingertips. Drinking in the emotional overload, she reversed direction and spun herself back into his arms. Grinning, he dipped her backward before they continued their dance deeper into the crowd of happy couples.

“Watch it people, I’ve got a full load of cargo coming through here,” said Adam with a chuckle as he and Nori bumped into Glen. Mary watched her pregnant friend quickly swat the elder Roh and she smiled with approval. Her attention focused back on the crowd and she noticed Julie and her husband also dancing energetically past them.

“Aren’t you supposed to be studying this?” she shouted over the music at her friend. Julie glanced back at Mary and grinned in response.

“Every system I have including that last active telescope in the corner is set to record!” Dr. Markham laughed with glee. “I’ll get around to reviewing it… eventually. Right now it’s time to have some fun celebrating your big night!”

The happy new couple continued their romantic twist through the crowd and smiled cheerfully as they passed Thomas and Kari. “It won’t be long before you’re in my shoes buddy,” Glen hollered to his friend, watching him blush several shades of red. He continued to watch all the happy faces in the crowd pass by and suddenly noticed something odd. “Where did the Captain go?” he asked carefully while continuing to scan the room.

They found Kaufield seated with Noah, Dr. Simmons and Patrick Warren in the Infirmary. Dennis was a little bit shocked as he watched Glen, Mary, Adam, Thomas, Julie, Noriana, Father Dixon and Colonel Neeland file slowly into the room – still dressed in their formal attire. Jeff arrived a few seconds later from the Lab wing, where he had been emceeing the ship’s other party until Thomas managed to have him paged.

“I didn’t mean to spoil a perfectly good time,” Kaufield said sincerely, watching his close-knit group of friends and officers carefully. “But once we return to Tranquility and park the Pathfinder for good we’ll be unable to use its CAS Drive for a while. I’ve thought the matter over and decided that there is one more task as Captain of this ship that I have to perform.” He shook his head in wonder, watching them with the respect and appreciation that only people who have served together for years have for each other. “That’s my responsibility, however. You folks should return to the party and continue having fun. After all,” he grinned, looking at Glen and Mary proudly. “It is your night, after all, and it should be a memorable one!”

“Earth is our home too Captain,” said Glen firmly. “The responsibility and yearning you have to do something about the Brotherhood – at least in some way – is equally strong among the rest of your crew, I can assure you.”

“What are you planning, sir?” asked Thomas curiously. Kaufield’s response was to hand him a sheet of printed paper containing a very short message that Karen and Patrick had helped him write. The young scientist read the text message printed on it before handing it down the line so the rest of his friends could also review the content.

“It reads well,” Adam commented, handing the note back to his Captain. “But they’ll never believe us unless we offer them proof that we’re not kidding. If you don’t mind, I’d like to make a small suggestion…”

Later that evening found the Captain and most of his Council of Twelve standing side by side in the Command Dome, carefully studying the overhead monitors. Thomas and Glen had taken complete control of the central computer ring and were busy working from the stations normally occupied by Adam and Mary. The view that the rest of them were watching was an image of the bottom of the Pathfinder’s hangar bay. A large Canary Probe dropped from its secure position on the bottom of the hull and floated free for a moment. Then the small craft’s aft thrusters fired and it began moving slowly forward into its pre-programmed position.

“CAS Drive is on-line and ready,” Thomas said confidently.

“Shrinking PTP window for transport,” Glen replied. He watched the readouts on the work station in front of him carefully and nodded as its lights flashed green. “The probe is away Captain,” he said with enthusiasm. “There is no way we can precisely hit Earth orbit from this distance, but the Canary will arrive close enough for its internal systems to guide it the rest of the way.”

“That’s it then,” Kaufield said softly, smiling at the people standing with him. “It’s time to pick a party and go back to having some fun.”

“It’s going to be bad for a while on Earth, Dennis,” said Noah cautiously. “The killing will continue, and the Brotherhood will have to make a choice.”

“Yes, but they’ll have to do so… alone,” replied Kaufield with a sharp grin. “I can’t thank you enough for using your technology to bring Earth’s refugees to us.”

“Some of them are Brotherhood devotees, many of whom are still on the fence as to who to trust…”

“They will no longer be the bully,” the Captain replied firmly. “We will deal with them more fairly than they dealt with us.”

“I will leave you to your new world then,” the alien said, turning to go.

“Everyone enjoy themselves and have fun tonight,” Dennis decided. “Tomorrow the hard work begins, rebuilding a new world for more than a billion refugees. We will construct new cities and increase our population first, and only after that is completed will we decide whether or not to open negotiations with Earth’s current leadership. It may take decades, it may take hundreds of years… and it remains to be seen whether or not anyone will survive back there.” He flashed a wry smile.

Sol-system, 172 days after the initial attack

The Canary Probe emerged from its CAS-assisted transit having traveled almost instantly all the way back to the edge of the Sol star system in the Milky Way. The incredibly long distance PTP hop wasn’t perfect by any means, so its programmed computer systems immediately activated its motion sensors and on-board observation equipment. The probe began a search for nearby objects and very quickly began to populate an empty computer file with a detailed map of the solar system. Mere moments later its scan was detected and the probe noted ships moving toward it – none of which signaled it with a friendly identification code.

The four enemy fighters moved quickly into the area and began to rapidly close the distance between their patrol and the unfamiliar probe. They were preparing to open fire on the unknown intruder when the Canary suddenly activated its own small PTP unit and transited away. One of the fighters immediately reported its findings back to home base. They patiently waited until a return signal was received, indicating to them that the matter was under control. Accepting the transmission, they resumed their patrol along the outer edge of the solar system.

There were even more enemy warships in Earth orbit but the Canary proved to be very precise in its measurements. It emerged from its second, short-range hop already in the upper atmosphere and its hull instantly began to heat as its thrusters moved it even more sharply downward toward the distant surface below. The vulnerable equipment inside of it began to fail from the extreme heat and it tried one last time to adjust its course toward a rural region located just south of the Himalayas in a small country called Ghuitan. The course correction failed along with the rest of its electronics and, a blazing ball of fire, the Canary Probe dropped out of the sky trailing a huge column of smoke behind it right before crashing heavily into the ground.

The wreckage was still smoking when a large shuttle dropped out of the sky and landed near the new crater in the ground. Four Brotherhood soldiers emerged from the ship and walked over to the remains of the probe and then paused, waiting for additional instructions. A beautiful dark-haired woman dressed in black also stepped out of the cargo carrier and walked over to examine the wreckage.

“Load this into the ship,” Valiana 001 told the soldiers. “We’ll take it back with us to Drik Gyilto’s palace.” Without saying a word, the soldiers immediately moved to obey and – relying on thick gloves to protect them from hot metal – the four of them easily lifted the hot, blackened wreckage of the probe out of the large crater and began moving it back to their ship. Small fires still flickered in the grass around the crater and Valiana tilted her head upward, watching the gradually dispersing remnants of the probe’s descending smoke trail in the cloudless sky overhead.

“What is it?” Hobak 322 asked as she stepped back aboard the shuttle. He sat next to additional soldiers, watching the other four loading the probe into the cargo area at the rear of the ship. “Was it supposed to be some kind of weapon?” Normally such questions would have continued to pour out of him one after another, but the presence of an actual member of the Triumvirate unnerved him.

“Maybe,” Valiana shrugged, taking a seat beside him. “Who knows what the survivors will try. They’ve got something up their sleeve that we don’t know about. I’ve been sent out here specifically to discover why so many of them are vanishing without a trace.”

Hobak smiled. “Mass suicide. They know their situation is hopeless.”

She shot him a dirty, intimidating look that silenced him instantly. “Over confidence will not help,” she told him. “I have seen for myself evidence that something very odd is taking place.” He waited patiently, but she chose not to share anything further with him. The shuttle’s engines fired and it slowly took off and began moving off on a course back toward Ghuitan, before altering that heading just slightly enough to move north of the capitol city. Valiana and Hobak remained silent for the rest of the journey back until the small cargo carrier finally arrived at its destination. It landed next to a large building that was basically intact, but whose entrance had been severely damaged during a prolonged gun battle.

Upon landing, the soldiers immediately began unloading the probe’s wreckage. Like a ghost sliding out of the shadows, the dark-haired woman appeared beside them. “Take it to Durgon 001,” she ordered before looking directly back to Hobak with some authority. “Make sure that he knows I want a complete analysis ready by tomorrow morning.”

“I’ll certainly do that,” the Hobak clone said, bowing deeply before moving off to follow the soldiers.

The next day Valiana 001 entered the main underground chamber, where months ago they had held their brief meeting with Drik Gyilto. Surprisingly he was present, waiting for her a bit impatiently with Durgon 001 and Hobak 001. “Why is he here?” she asked acidly, gesturing casually in Gyilto’s direction. “If we add a new member to the Triumvirate, we will have to rename it.”

“My people are disappearing just as fast as those in other nations,” the Ghuitan King snapped back at her. “You promised me a kingdom to rule over.” His anger had grown strong enough to overcome his fear of her, an annoying trait that Valiana made a mental note to put a stop to… soon.

“Why are so many survivors disappearing?” Hobak asked her intently. “What did you discover?”

“Either the moon colony project team completed its new type of PTP project, or some sort of alien influence is involved,” she replied brusquely, studying the color on her fingernails. “Several days ago, I was searching one of the mountainous areas where survivors were rumored to meet. It was nighttime and we were hovering above a large group of them in a shuttle. We spotted a small oval filled with bright white light that appeared near ground level, it must have been some sort of energy portal. One after another, the crowd down below lined up and walked toward it. All of them disappeared inside of it.” She studied Hobak’s gaze with hate-filled glittering eyes. “Somehow I doubt that they were killing themselves with some sort of suicide weapon. It had to be a new form of Point-to-Point transport.”

“That is ridiculous. Where would they go?”

“If I knew the answer to that question, Hobak, then naturally so would you.”

He nodded, obviously not pleased by what she had told him. Turning his attention to Durgon, he briefly studied the remains of the small Canary probe sitting on the table in front of them. “And you, what were you able to determine?” he asked. “Was this supposed to be a weapon of some sort?”

“Unlikely,” the third member of their Triumvirate replied. “The Americans have all kinds of differing versions of these ‘Canary’ probes as they like to call them. Most are very sophisticated pieces of electrical equipment designed to monitor stellar phenomenon, but there are smaller versions of them also in use by the military as missile decoys or simply as a means to disrupt enemy communications.”

“And this one?” asked Valiana impatiently. “What was it supposed to do?” She had been desperately waiting to hear something about the mysterious, crashed device ever since receiving the order to retrieve it.

“This probe has markings on it that indicates it is indeed from a vessel called Pathfinder.” He shrugged. “That’s the new ship that the moon Colonists built with what they call a CAS system. This Pathfinder would be the same vessel that escaped from us about six months ago after nearly destroying one of our warships.”

Hobak reached forward and picked up the papers that Durgon had set on the desk. He glanced over the images of the distant, spiral-armed galaxy clusters printed on them and shook his head with delight. “They’re letting us know that they got safely out of the galaxy,” he concluded with an evil grin. “They’re convinced that they are protected from us, even though they’re lost in the middle of nowhere and will struggle mightily on a daily basis simply to survive.”

“They’re more than convinced,” Durgon continued, turning over one of the pictures. On the back of it was a text message that he slowly read out loud to the two people seated across from him:

“These pictures were taken from a position that we call Bravo Point as proof that we have escaped from your military threat. You cannot track us and you will never find us. But we know where YOU are, and we are taking back the surviving members of our people. Earth is your planet now, and you will have to rebuild it with your own hands. Creating rather than simply destroying may teach you something about the value of life. But bear in mind that we have plans to return to our home someday.

We hope you enjoy waking up each new day to a bombed out horizon.

Also, by genetically enhancing yourselves, you should know that your Brotherhood and its Triumvirate have also accepted the consequences and the responsibilities that go with such gifts. So treat our planet and the people who choose to remain behind better than you have to date, or we promise that things will go badly for you in the end.”

“Do they really think that we’re going to take a message such as this one, delivered using a long distance probe seriously?” Hobak asked, laughing with enthusiasm. “They can’t penetrate our defenses, so they hide somewhere distant in the universe and expect us to respond to idle threats? I’ve seen the Americans make some poor decisions in their day, but this one borders on ridiculous.” In truth the crude text of the message unnerved him, but Hobak feigned a mocking laugh in order to hide the sudden chill that permeated his entire body.

“You wouldn’t laugh so easily if you had seen that energy portal,” snapped Valiana in response. Her emotions were also on edge due to the unknowns they had been witness to. “It isn’t just a few groups of survivors that are missing. All of them… even the ones we recruited in other nations to work in our labor camps… they’re all disappearing. Millions of people are vanishing without a trace. Where have they gone?”

“If this Pathfinder did indeed make it out of our galaxy, then that is no small feat. They might have the ability to transport smaller objects, like people, too.” Durgon watched Hobak’s reaction as the full meaning of his statement weighed heavily on his colleague. “If they successfully locate a habitable planet to set down on, they could cause us great difficulties.” He pointed at the cracked metal frame of the Canary probe. “This could just as easily have contained an armed nuclear device.”

Valiana pointed at the small glass vial lying next to Durgon’s paperwork. “Have you been able to determine whose blood that is?” she asked curiously, watching him nod affirmatively in response.

“It’s mine,” he said. “The DNA matches precisely. My guess is that they discovered my clone and his true identity, and this is their way of proving it to us.”

“One of Durgon’s clones was on board the Pathfinder,” Valiana continued. “He was using a false identity, known to them as Patrick Warren. The fact that they have captured him also means nothing, since he was sent there to gather information. He doesn’t know anything that can possibly hurt us.”

“I sure hope he doesn’t,” Durgon noted cautiously, pointing at the back of the photo containing the text message. “Because there are fourteen signatures at the bottom of this note: their Captain, each member of their newly elected governing Council, and a Patrick Warren. So not only have they discovered him, but he is obviously cooperating with them as well.”

“Irrelevant,” Hobak decided casually as he and Valiana stood up.

“Have all of the probe’s remains, along with its contents, put in long-term storage,” instructed Hobak. “Finish up with what you need to and then file everything away somewhere – I really don’t care where.” Durgon nodded and watched them leave the room before checking his schedule and returning to his daily routine. Inside he was fuming.

You wouldn’t be so eager to consider all of this irrelevant if you knew how many Brotherhood members had vanished along with the survivors, he thought silently to himself. Then he moved swiftly to follow the instructions assigned to him.

After completing another day’s work with his usual precision, Durgon returned to the small room in the lowest level of the underground complex that served as his quarters. He poured himself a glass of water and took a drink while reviewing the events of the day in his mind. He was very familiar with humans and had personally interacted with many of the survivors each and every day – so the fact that the Pathfinder’s crew had taken the time to program and send the probe left him extremely curious. He was quite relaxed, and therefore nearly jumped out of his seat when he saw the man standing in front of him.

“You have done well,” the stranger told him. He was dressed in civilian clothes and had straight black hair, high cheekbones and an evil smile that rivaled Hobak’s. “Have you committed any acts of brutality lately… ordered any deaths just because you can, perhaps?”

“Who are you?” Durgon said, studying the newcomer curiously as he set his glass of water down. “How did you possibly get into this complex… especially its lowest level? You should be dead.”

“Have you already forgotten the message from the Pathfinder’s crew?” the stranger asked, grinning with delight in response as he casually leaned against a wall. “Specifically, do you remember the part about genetic enhancements and the responsibilities that go with them?” He pointed at Durgon’s hands. Glancing down, the Triumvirate leader was astonished to see a series of red and purplish blotches covering the skin on the surface of both hands in at least a dozen areas. “One of the first things that you need to learn about people is that when you go around making enemies, it’s quite possible that they may get really angry at you and come up with ways to exploit your vulnerabilities. You know, perhaps an attack using a biological agent of some sort.” The mysterious stranger smiled slyly. “If I were you, I’d start reviewing quarantine procedures because your cloned enhancements make you an extremely valuable test subject…”

“Oh no…” Durgon groaned, taking a closer look at the spots that had not been present only hours earlier.

“Oh yes!” the stranger countered confidently. “You think humanity is going to just sit back and LET you win? They’ve been fighting wars for thousands of years… your petty cloning lines are virtual babies by comparison. Does your Triumvirate think that they have the lock on playing dirty? They’d better watch out, because probes like the one that landed yesterday could be dropping out of the sky a lot more often. Who knows – maybe they’ll even contain more than just a virus we found next time!”

Durgon moved quickly to call for assistance, but he was blocked by the man as he spun toward the door. The malevolent smile of the other pierced him to his very soul.

“Who are you?” Durgon demanded to know, studying the hatred blazing from the man’s crimson-tinted eyes.

“Don’t you recognize me?” grinned the stranger wickedly. “I am the person whom your people choose to serve. My name is Lucifer.” He chuckled, deep and throaty, placing a hand on Durgon’s head and forcing him to his knees. “You may also know me as ‘the Devil’ or as the one who was cast out. I prefer Mephistopheles, actually. It has such a nice ring to it, don’t you think?” Durgon resisted, trying to rise but his strength temporarily failed him, and he felt his forehead growing hot. “I am extremely pleased with the murderous agenda your Triumvirate has embraced. It has made you extremely strong and powerful.”

From his position kneeling on the floor, Durgon opened his mouth and screamed…

22: Epilogue: The Beginning

THE PATHFINDER PROJECT

Epilogue: The Beginning

Captain Dennis Kaufield was sitting on a rolling, grassy hill staring at the setting orange sun when Adam Roh found him. “What’s new Adam?” he asked curiously, his arm wrapped protectively around Joseph. “Is the universe managing to get along without us for once?”

Adam chuckled lightly in response. “You could say that,” he replied. “We’ve rescued more than a billion refugees from Earth, and more are arriving every hour. Noah wasn’t kidding; these people are geared up to handle refugee problems. Their Point-to-Point is absolutely astonishing to behold. What we’ve done with ships and small fighters, they do with people. And they’re doing it at thousands of points all over Earth’s surface simultaneously.”

On the horizon, white puffy cumulous clouds were turning pink and orange as they caught the day’s last few remaining rays of sunlight. Listening to the scientist’s report, Kaufield smiled. “What do you think Joseph?” he asked his twelve year old with a warm grin. “Can you learn to like it here?”

“Sure,” the young boy replied. “It beats going back to live with the Brotherhood.”

“I concur,” his father nodded.

“It’s doubtful they would let us watch a sunset without permission,” added Adam with a harsh chuckle. “Maybe after sixteen hours of forced labor, once we collapsed from complete exhaustion.”

“After all the centuries our country spent helping the world, we finally lucked out and found someone else who is as generous and compassionate as we are… and right when we needed them most.” He glanced upward briefly, long enough to study Adam’s eyes. “Are you a believer yet… in Intelligent Design?”

“I’m getting there,” the elder Roh told him. He picked up a small stone from the grass and dropped it, watching gravity take hold and tug it immediately back to ground level. “You see? There’s certainly magic to be found here too, just like back on Earth.”

Together the three of them breathed in the flower-scented fresh evening air and continued to watch the sun set.