The Agathon: Reign of Arturo (2 page)

“Have the plans drawn up for the medical supply run and ready to go by 08:00,” he finally said.

She frowned. “Are we attending the execution?” she said under her breath.

He thought about it for a moment.

“Yes,” he said, “I want a test run on all sub light drive systems when the ground crew returns.”

India hesitated, then swung her legs over the flight chair and left the cockpit. Aron closed his eyes and thought about Greenly’s last look before he left. It was peaceful. He knew he was not going to make it back. He put his hand inside his trouser pocket and pulled out a data rod. He looked at it as he let it run through his fingers.

“Thank you, Thomas,” he said while looking out at the stars. It had cost him his life, but it was finally starting to happen. This little piece of metal would liberate the human race.

“It’s time,” he said gripping it into a fist.

The Agathon

For millions of years the comet had drifted. Its tail spreading its icy rock all over the cosmos as it went upon its endless journey through nothingness. It had not seen a single moving object in all its time wandering through deep space. Surrounded by ice and silence. Millions of years of being alone. Destined to spend its eternity going from one nameless part of the galaxy to another. Not today however. As it crossed the heavens a flash of light and fire spread across its surface, as something unusual erupted out of the void and into existence. The large metallic monster streaked across its outer edge nearly crashing straight into it. It tumbled and spun out of control. The comet, unmoved by the wake of the explosion carried on its journey undisturbed. The spinning metal rings of the object began to slow revealing a disk shaped craft. Small explosions erupted off its surface as
it tumbled away into the darkness. It was the only object the comet would ever see before it finally came to its eventual demise in another three million years at the merciless hands of an exploding star.

“We’ve re-entered normal space, sir,” shouted Boyett at the flight controls. “Inertial dampers are offline, hold on,” she said.

Carrie Barrington held on tightly to the base of one of the consoles on the bridge. She had been thrown halfway across the bridge. She looked back at her father who was holding onto the captain’s chair for dear life. She could feel the pressure of the G force against her chest. It felt like they were being thrown off a cliff.

“Shut down the FTL ring!” shouted Captain Barrington through gritted teeth.

“Done, sir,” replied Boyett. She was strapped into her flight chair and tapping controls furiously.

Several of the consoles had exploded and smoke was beginning to fill the bridge. Sparks rained down from the viewing screens overhead. Her father looked at her through his one good eye. The other remained hidden under a patch that Doctor Brubaker had given him to cover his eye wound temporarily. Carrie looked around the bridge which had descended into a chaotic scene of crew members pinned against consoles and sprawled on the deck.

“Engine room!” shouted her father.

“Tosh here, Captain, we’re shutting her down. Give me thirty seconds,” said Doctor Daniel Tosh’s gruff voice.

“Understood,” replied the captain.

Carrie looked to the rear of the bridge trying to see where Doctor Tyrell was. He must have fallen behind a bulkhead because she couldn’t see him. She began to feel lighter as the gravitational forces began to return to normal on the ship. She caught her breath and slowly righted herself, standing slowly. Her left shoulder hurt after hitting the console. She pulled her shoulder blades back, stretching
them, and let out a sigh of relief. They were alive. There was silence on the bridge as the crew stood up and got their bearings. There was blood free flowing from a head wound on Kevin Ferrate’s face. The young operations officer began typing commands into the console behind her father’s chair.

“Everyone in one piece?” he said looking around the bridge.

Carrie looked at David Chavel sitting at the navigation console next to Boyett. He gave her a glance and smiled. She sensed his concern for her, so she nodded lovingly at him before he turned back to his console and began tapping away at it. The bridge settled as the vibrations of the spinning Faster than Light ring, which surrounded the vessel, slowed to a halt. There was quiet for a moment as the crew took a breath.

“We made it,” said Chavel looking back at the captain.

Barrington smiled at the young officer. Carrie was suddenly aware that the entire bridge crew was looking at her. Their escape from the planet sized machine intent on killing them and replicating their bodies had been a close call, but the sudden revelation about her secret abilities seemed to be on everyone’s mind. She could hear their collective thoughts focused on her. Some were afraid. She felt her father’s love as he linked with her momentarily.

“
Don’t worry, Dice. I got your back. We’ll figure this out,”
he thought to her calmly.

She smiled and nodded back at him. He turned to the rear of the bridge and looked at Tyrell who was now standing firmly upright and looking at Carrie. The captain stood and faced him.

“Lieutenant Chavel,” he said.

“Yes, sir?” Chavel replied.

“I want you to escort Doctor Tyrell to the brig,” he said.

Chavel hesitated.

“Sir?” he said.

The captain kept his eye on Tyrell.

“Now, Lieutenant,” he said raising his voice enough to let Chavel know not to question his order again.

Chavel looked at Carrie before climbing out of his chair and moving towards the rear of the bridge.

“Father, you don’t have to do that,” said Carrie.

Her father did not respond. Tyrell looked at Carrie and smiled. Chavel moved to the rear of the bridge and extended his arm towards Tyrell pointing him in the direction of the lift. Carrie thought for a moment that The Black, which now inhabited Tyrell’s body, would react violently to the action.

“Doctor, if you please,” he said nervously.

Tyrell waited for a moment and faced Carrie.

“
I wish to speak to you. Come find me,”
he said in her mind.

He turned and allowed Chavel to escort him off the bridge. They left together quietly. Carrie suddenly felt a hand on her shoulder. Jerome Young, the former CEO of Jycorp, was standing next to her. His eyes were as wide as they were penetrating.

“Okay, Carrie,” he said, “I think it’s time we all had a chat about what we just saw you do, don’t you think?” he finished addressing the captain. Carrie shrugged away from him and walked over to her father. For the first time in her life she was truly afraid. The captain put his hand on her arm and smiled.

“We will have a briefing to discuss what has happened shortly, Mr Young,” he said.

“In the meantime,” he paused, “I think we should find out where the hell we are, don’t you think?”

2

Earth One

F
lorence Grimley looked at her food. Her coffee had gone cold and she was having trouble mustering up the strength to eat. The small pull down table that was attached to her wall jutted out in the middle of the living area and she sat squarely at it on a hard metallic stool. Her bed was neatly made behind her and the almost clinical cleanliness of the room made it look like one of the medical bays. There were no photographs or art on the walls. She wanted no memories. If she could cut out the part of her brain that reminded her daily of what Arturo had done to her over the years, she would have. She looked at her long fingers and gently pulled the cuffs of her black jacket sleeve over the scars on her wrists.

“These are my gift,” he had said to her all those years ago.

The scars on her back and the torn muscle tissue that lay underneath were a daily reminder of his gift. The mornings were when the pain hit her the most. The morphine usually wore off in the mornings and she regularly awoke screaming. She arched her back and stretched out the torn muscles that plagued her on a daily basis. She looked at the empty syringe next to her breakfast and waited patiently for it to kick in. It felt like a warm bath when it did. She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths before taking a bite of the synthetic rations that sat neatly on the plate. Its dry tastelessness slid
down her throat. She had thought many times of killing him. But she simply wasn’t strong enough. What if her hand slipped? Or the poison did not work? Her death would not be as forgiving as being blown out an airlock. He would dissect her. While she was still awake. And feed her body parts to her. Age had caught up with her. How could someone, who had difficulty getting out of bed every day, kill the chancellor and get away with it? And she had to admit that her meek existence was still better than some in the tribes. She had her own quarters, which was unheard of. She had food. Medical care. And while she had to endure the odd beating, her life was still far better than most. At least her body wasn’t in the power plant. Not alive. Not dead. Dangling from wires.

She wondered what they dreamed of. If they even dreamed. Was it an unending nightmare or were they at peace? She didn’t want to find out either way. So she maintained her silence. She did what she was told. And most of all she stayed alive. She had no idea how long she had left. She had sensed a frustration in Arturo with her lately. She checked the execution diaries regularly to see if her name had been added. Not that it mattered. It certainly wouldn’t come directly from him. She would simply awake one day with two members of the Colonial Guard looking over her. They would drag her from her bed and into a holding cell. From there the last thing she would see would be the back of an airlock door. Then the coldness of space.

Her wrist band bleeped showing her the time and she tidied away her plate into a nearby sink. She carefully cleaned it and replaced it on the rack. It was the only one there. She glanced at her gaunt reflection in a wall mirror, fixed a loose strand of grey hair by tucking it behind her ear and left her quarters to begin her daily routine. First stop was always Arturo’s office.

Earth One

Signal Room

Peter Homan yawned. The communications technician lay back in his chair and stared at the ceiling of the small dark room. A single
spotlight shone down on him. He looked directly at it until his eyes adjusted to the bright light. He examined its cracked casing and decided that he would replace it in the morning after he woke up. If anything it would be something to do. It might give him a chance to talk to the cute girl who was stationed in the supply vault. Susan was her name. He liked going down to see her for replacement parts.

“Anything today?” she would ask.

“Nope, maybe tomorrow,” he would respond with a smile.

He was a person of interest to the colonists as they asked him the same thing almost daily.

“Anything today?” they would say in the corridors.

He had volunteered for this, which he still couldn’t believe, out of a sense of duty. It was considered by most to be a largely ceremonial role, but it was respected amongst the colonists and gave him a certain amount of prestige. The signal detector was the man who waited for two very important transmissions. His parents had been overjoyed at his appointment and looked proudly on during the pomp and grandeur of the initiation ceremony. It had been a special day for them. Six months into staring at the control panels, he had realised that this was no place for a twenty-two-year-old. Solitary confinement would have been as equally exciting. For thirteen hours a day he would wait. He was allowed only one security cleared visitor a day. Most days it was his mother. She would bring him a warm drink and some rations and they would talk for twenty minutes before she was escorted out by a member of the Colonial Guard. He realised early on that he had volunteered for a prison sentence. He had thought about stepping quietly into an airlock many times, wondering if anyone would notice. He was still curious though. So he waited, listening to the cosmos. Filtering background radiation and the cosmic vibrations of exploding stars and nebula. Waiting for something he knew would never come.

He closed his eyes and let the noise of the nearby computer consoles align in his mind to help him sleep. He waited in the silence
allowing his mind to slip. After several minutes he began hearing something unusual. A quiet bleeping noise cut through the ambient sounds of the computers. He opened his eyes and looked over at a single red blinking light at the bottom of one of the display consoles. He ignored it at first and moved his body over to reset the obviously frozen or crashed computer system. Then something caught his eye which made his heart skip a beat. A single line of text began flashing at the bottom of the screen.

AGATHON SIGNAL BEACON DETECTED

His mouth opened as he tapped the computer keypad.

“Computer, verify signal detection,” he said.

A light female voice answered.

“Signal verified as Agathon homing beacon,” she said.

“Holy shit,” he said.

“Please repeat last command,” the female computer voice answered.

“Never mind, computer, can you give me a relative bearing?” he asked.