The Agathon: Reign of Arturo (3 page)

“Triangulating. Please wait,” she replied.

He waited for a moment when the door to the room opened and a large armoured member of the Colonial Guard entered. He approached the young man and grasped him firmly on the arm.

“Come with me, sir,” he said through a metallic faceplate making his voice sound raspy and inhuman.

“Wait!” replied Peter in a desperate voice, “I’ve found it! It’s The Agathon!” he cried.

The large guard ignored his request and pulled him forcefully out of the chair dragging him firmly out of the room. Peter looked back at the computer console. The single red light blinked quietly away as he felt something pierce the skin on his arm. As the world began to sink away he wondered if he would ever see his parents again. Secretly, he knew he probably wouldn’t.

Earth One

Office of the Chancellor

“That is impossible,” Arturo said to Hector Stanley. The huge man stood before him in a worn black suit. His black shirt barely contained the size of his bulging chest. His physicality was almost all he needed to intimidate most of the colonists.

“The signal was acquired this morning, sir,” he replied. Arturo stood from his desk and rounded it.

“You are sure it is from The Agathon?” he said.

“Positive, sir,” he replied, “What was left of the historical database computer had the exact frequency intact. It’s them.”

Arturo looked out of the large windows behind his desk.

“How can that be?” he asked rhetorically.

“There are several theories,” replied Stanley gruffly. His deep growling voice seemed to have only one tone. “One being that the ship drifted into a wormhole.”

Arturo looked back at him raising an eyebrow.

“You are telling me for over a thousand years the ship has been in a wormhole?” he said.

“I agree, sir, it seems unlikely,” responded Stanley. “It may have been drifting for that amount of time and the beacon may have just activated automatically. I don’t see how there can be anyone left alive on board the ship,” he finished.

Arturo looked over at the carving hanging on his wall. For generations the stories of the ill-fated ship had passed from father to son. Myths had come to pass as to what had happened to it. Following the great war that had nearly destroyed the space stations much of the information about the vessel had been lost. The historical libraries on board had been erased. Almost nothing was known of the events that had led to the human race being sentenced to an eternity drifting in the void. Arturo’s father had told him stories of a home world. That it had been destroyed by an alien signal. That the Signal Makers had grown angry with the human race, and that this was their punishment.
There was no evidence of such a signal. Or if there was it had long been lost. If word that The Agathon signal had suddenly been discovered and was circulating among the people, he would have a problem.

“Who knows about this?” he asked Stanley.

“The technician alerted me immediately. He is currently under guard,” he replied.

“Eliminate him,” said Arturo blankly, “Quietly.”

“Yes, sir, I thought as much,” said Stanley.

The door to his office chimed. Arturo sighed.

“Enter,” he said.

Florence Grimley entered slowly through the hissing door and approached. She looked anxiously at Stanley who ignored her completely.

“What is it, Florence?” snapped Arturo.

Grimley bowed her head apologetically.

“My apologies, Chancellor, I did not mean to interrupt you. The execution will take place in thirty minutes,” she said looking at the ground. Stanley continued to ignore her presence.

“Very well,” he replied, “begin preparations for the broadcast. I will join you shortly. I have made a selection for Vishal, you will find it in my unsecured folder. Please notify the guard and make arrangements this evening.”

Florence nodded.

“Yes, sir, I will attend to it,” she said. She turned on her heel and left the two men. Arturo stood looking out at the nearby Kandinsky. Like a giant wall, it kept a close perimeter with the connected stations. Its running lights blinking in unison. Nothing like a one hundred-thousand-ton guard dog to help you sleep at night. The outfitted military transport had been kept in prime condition over the centuries. The leaders of the tribes had feared the same thing Arturo did. An uprising. Hard lessons learned from the war.

“I want to see Elstone as soon as he returns,” he said to Stanley.

“Yes, sir, I will alert the docking personnel as soon as the ships return this afternoon,” he replied.

“Where are we on the FTL tests on The Kandinsky?” Arturo asked.

Stanley sighed and looked out at the ship as it passed quietly by the window.

“Don’t ask me to explain it, sir. Vishal is really the man you need to talk to on this. He said something about the mass of the ship being too great for instalment of an effective Faster than Light ring as per The Agathon texts we have on file. He is working on the problem. Our best hope seems to still be the sub light drive installed on Elstone’s ship,” he said.

“Hmm,” replied Arturo, “We will leave for the airlock in ten minutes. Please wait outside while I attend to some matters here.”

“Yes, sir,” the big man replied as he bowed and turned for the exit. He left quietly leaving Arturo alone in his office. He turned and pressed the comm system on his desk. It bleeped and a moment later Vishal answered.

“Yes, Chancellor?” he asked.

“Vishal, I want you present at the execution,” Arturo said.

“Sir?” he asked inquisitively. He sounded suspicious, but most of the colonists did whenever Arturo asked for something out of the ordinary. Most expected never to return from sudden meetings with him.

“Is there a problem, Vishal?” Arturo said raising his voice slightly.

“Eh ... no, sir, I will of course attend immediately,” he said.

“See you shortly,” said Arturo disconnecting the channel and walking over to a small wall closet. He slid the glass doors apart and placed a hand on one of the dark suits that hung neatly on one of the rails. The jacket had a single line of embellishment around its shoulder indicating the chancellor’s ranks of military and tribal commander. He removed the overcoat he was wearing and placed the jacket on smoothly. He drew the double breasted front across his chest and fastened the three silver buttons attaching the two pieces together. He turned and looked at his reflection in the mirror on the opposite wall. The light from the ceiling reflected perfectly off his completely bald head. While his face was never particularly handsome, his low thick brow had given
his eyes a distinctive and penetrating look. They were royal blue and quite striking to see up close. He had been small for his age, growing up alone in the colony, but had made up for it with a ferocious nature. A reputation that preceded the scrawny boy that had earned him the respect of the Colonial Guard early on. He looked at his thin face in the mirror and shuffled the coat over his thin frame. It was always too big for him, but he liked the way it made him look. He looked more tired than usual these last few days. The sunken dark areas beneath his eyes, which were a permanent feature, had grown sullener. He suddenly forgot the name of the man he was about to kill. Not that it mattered. They had to be taught a lesson. The human race was a delicate balance between order and chaos. He could not have chaos. Not when they were on the verge of their greatest achievement. He gently brushed a hair off one of his sleeves and fixed one of the lapels.

“Why don’t you just get on with it and kill them all?” his reflection suddenly said.

He hadn’t spoken to him in weeks and was beginning to wonder if he had finally gone.

Arturo looked around the empty room finally closing his eyes and ignoring the old voice that had taken up residence in his mind.

“Hello?” it said, “I am talking to you, young man.”

Arturo clenched his fists.

“I am Arturo Verge. I am the chancellor of the human race and I do not acknowledge you,” he said with his eyes to the floor.

“Shut the fuck up! I am talking to you. How dare you. Look at me!” the voice said. Arturo looked up at the disdain on his reflection in the mirror.

“You will listen to me!” it said, so angry that saliva dribbled down his chin. The force of the reflection was so palpable that Arturo simply nodded.

“I will be at this execution. Not you. Do you understand? I want to see this fuck exploding in space. This piece of garbage who thought it would be funny to steal information from me. From us. You are becoming weak. You know that?” it said furiously.

Arturo closed his eyes. While he agreed with his other self wholeheartedly, the rage of it had to be contained. He could not let this persona out in public view. This insanity had to be kept locked firmly away for fear the Colonial Guard would replace him, but lately it was getting stronger. On more than one occasion he had to restrain himself from killing one of his captains, for no reason, with his bare hands. He had withdrawn himself to his office and had rarely been seen in public in months. Stanley had taken care of the menial matters of the running of the colony with ease, allowing Arturo to concentrate on the bigger problems. He looked at his reflection and gathered the strength needed to respond.

“You will not attend the execution,” he said clenching his fists, “It’s not your turn.”

The reflection grinned showing teeth that looked ready to bite down hard.

“Very well, my friend,” it said quietly, “I shall see you shortly.”

The presence of the other person began to fade as the peace of just one voice, his voice, was given the chance to control once again. Arturo knew it would not be long before they merged into one. He secretly welcomed that day. The strength of the other was something that would be eventually required. He took a deep breath, turned on his heels and headed out of his office. Waiting in the corridor were Florence and Stanley along with a handful of heavily armed members of the Colonial Guard.

“Okay, Gentlemen, let’s get this done,” he said with a quiet confidence.

The Colonial Guard formed a barrier beside him standing three on each side as they began to walk through the corridors of Earth One on their way to the main docking airlock. Inside the airlock stood a man waiting to die.

3

The Agathon

Conference Room

C
arrie nervously looked at the playback from the monitors trying to gauge the reactions to the images that were being rerun from their escape from the Targlagdu. The killer mechanical planet had lured them to its surface, replaced one of their crew members with a replicated monster and had nearly destroyed the ship. Chavel had returned from escorting Tyrell to the brig and was looking at her from across the table. She ignored his gaze and focused on the screen. The digital images showed her father and Tyrell running across the crumbling surface of the planet as it began to transform. In the distance, an army of alien life forms of all shapes and sizes gave chase. Long, black, snake-like creatures slithered amongst the army towards them as Carrie stood her ground. Bolts of blue lightning began firing from her fingertips destroying the creatures. She stood her ground and kept firing at the alien life forms. Some of them fell to the ground, while others simply exploded.

“Freeze image,” said Young suddenly. The image froze on Carrie. A thin bolt of electrical energy that was coming from her arms stood motionless. The group at the table turned and looked at her. She gazed at the table not making eye contact with anyone. She felt her
father’s hand on her forearm. She looked up at his smiling face as he winked at her. They waited for a response. Young took the initiative.

“So, what are we looking at Carrie?” he finally asked.

“It’s okay, Carrie, go ahead,” her father said.

She took a deep breath and steadied herself.

“It began about a year ago,” she said pensively, “At first I thought it was a medical condition, but Doctor Brubaker ruled that out. It would only happen at night. In the mornings, I would wake to the smell of burning. I thought there was an electrical problem in my quarters on Mars. It only happened when I had nightmares and seemed to be brought on by certain emotional states. After the Earth was destroyed, the frequency of the outbursts became more frequent. It was brought on by some sort of defence mechanism. Anger was a key factor. If I felt threatened my body would start emitting this…” she paused looking at the frozen image, “…energy,” she said.

“After a time it seemed that I was able to control it. I don’t know why or how this is happening to me. I’m sorry that I kept it a secret, but I simply didn’t want anyone to be afraid.” She addressed that comment directly at Chavel who was staring at her in wonder.

“Was it some sort of reaction to the Martian atmosphere? I mean, you were the first child born on that planet,” asked Chase Meridian shaking her head. Carrie looked at her and smiled. Her dearest friend had been close to her mother and father and had pretty much raised her following her mother’s death at the hands of The Black.

“We don’t know, Doctor,” the captain forcefully said trying to fend off the multitude of questions that were now bound to ensue.

Carrie felt his protective presence rise in the group and they seemed to get the hint. Young pressed.

“Astonishing,” said Young, “It could very well be a next step in human evolution.”

The captain looked at him.

“How much control do you have over it, Carrie?” Boyett finally asked.

Carrie suddenly sensed worry in her tone. But not for her. She looked at her curiously. Boyett looked at the captain.

“I only ask as it looks like the sort of thing that could pose a threat to the ship, Captain. What happens if Carrie has a nightmare and blows a hole in the hull?” she said. The table went silent. Boyett looked at Carrie.

“I’m sorry, Carrie, but I had to ask,” she said.

Carrie had to admit the question made sense, but it unnerved her. The captain raised his hand.

“That is a legitimate question, Lieutenant, and you do not have to apologise. We are all finding our footing with this new discovery and I want to assure you all that we are going to be investigating this fully. However, you should also realise that I will not have Carrie subjected to any unwanted prejudices regarding her ability. We are going to have a full and open disclosure of her abilities with the entire crew to allay any fears that anyone may have,” he said firmly. Meridian broke the awkward silence. Carrie welcomed her jovial tone.