The Legacy of Earth (Mandate Book 2) (22 page)

Engine 1 . . . check.

Engine 2 . . . check.

Deuterium storage . . . warning.

Reactor core . . . check.

Heat transfer . . . check.

Batteries . . . check.

Maneuvering . . . check.

Air management . . . warning.

. . .

“So much for that!” Jazdie yelled while trying not to hit the console.

She walked over to Phix’s engineering console on the left side of the bridge. Two of the screens had bullet holes in them, but the center screen was still functioning. She tapped on both engine readiness icons and watched the power level rise.

“Okay, I guess. . . .” she said uncertainly.

Jazdie returned to the helm station. The U-shaped steering wheel looked intimidating. She grabbed it with both hands and tried a test turn. It moved freely but nothing happened.

“Where’s the throttle on this thing?”

She looked to a half-dial on the left side of the console. An arrow on a small display pointed to the zero mark, corresponding to the dial handle at the center. She pushed both knobs of the dial forward an inch.

Nothing happened.

“Dammit! I’m never gonna get this hunk o’ junk to move! Damn you, Riley! What am I supposed to do now!”

As if an answer to her question, a red light blinking caught her attention. It was above the throttle dial. She looked closely at it. It was labeled “LOCK”.

She pressed it. It turned green. And immediately the ship began to move.

“Yes!
Yes, yes, yes, yes, yessss!
” she screamed, with each word rising in pitch until her voice was a glass-busting wail while she jumped up and down in the middle of the bridge.

And, just as quickly, she plopped back into the chair. “Wonder if this thing has cruise control?”

On the right of the console was a display showing the ship’s position.

“Ah-ha, there’s the Moon, and . . . there’s
me
. And . . . who the hell is
that?
” she said, eyes furrowed, as she stared at a ship signal coming around the Moon’s horizon curve.

She tapped the icon of the other ship, and a curved dotted line appeared between the Black Dahlia and the target. A confirmation button appeared on the bottom of the screen. Jazdie squinted her eyes, scrunched up her face, and looked around the bridge.

“I just don’t know! What am I supposed to do?” she asked the empty ship.

She tapped the confirm button.

The ship automatically increased speed. She watched the display on the left panel:

006.67 m/s

045.22 m/s

372.80 m/s

824.17 m/s

000.86 km/s

001.03 km/s

“
Shit!
Why is it going so fast!”

The helm was moving on its own. Jazdie looked at the NAV screen again and saw that the Black Dahlia was slowly heading toward the other ship in an arc while coming around the curve of the Moon.

A notification sound began beeping off to her right.

“Great, now what?”

Jazdie walked over to where the sound was coming from. She had no idea what the console was used for. It was covered with hundreds of buttons and three small screens. The first button in a long row of blue buttons was blinking. She pressed the button.

“. . . tify yourself or you will be fired upon. Repeat, this is the UNS Lexington. We read your identification beacon as the cargo ship, Black Dahlia. Alter your course and reduce your speed, immediately!”

“Oh. My. Fucking. God!” Jazdie screamed. “Don’t shoot at me! I’m just a girl!”

“Hello? Who is this?” the voice said through the console speaker.

“What—” Jazdie screamed.

On the Lexington, the comm officer turned, “Captain, I’ve got the Black Dahlia, but it’s—”

“On speaker, Mister Devlin,” Captain Long ordered.

“Aye, sir. Channel open.”

“—are you talking about?”

“This is Captain Dandere Long of the UNSC Navy cruiser Lexington. Identify yourself, please.”

Jazdie’s mouth fell open and she plopped into the chair behind the console.

“Captain Long, my name is Jazdie Mirth. I’m the last survivor of the Black Dahlia. I don’t know what to do! The ship was attacked by a . . . a pirate crew. And something happened and everyone’s dead or gone.”

Captain Long looked up as Cmdr. Plaas walked across the bridge to stand near him, an anxious expression on his face. “At least it’s not another high-speed missile attack,” he whispered.

Captain Long nodded.

“Miss Mirth, you need to reduce your speed or cut power to your engines. You’re on a collision course with us.”

“But, I don’t know how! Wait . . . I think I know what happened. Hang on a minute.”

Captain Long looked at the projected course of the Black Dahlia on the center bridge screen. It was heading directly toward the Lexington but was still nearly a thousand miles away. They had time. But time would draw short if the Black Dahlia continued to accelerate.

Long nodded to the XO, who barked orders to the helm officer. The Lexington began to move.

Jazdie ran to the helm station and tapped a blank spot on the NAV screen two inches to the left of the navy ship. The projected course changed and the confirm button appeared again below. She tapped it. And, for the first time, she noticed a dial on the right edge of the screen.

“I think I’ve got it, Captain Long!”

“Very good, Miss Mirth. We’ll continue to wait.”

Jazdie tapped the velocity level on what appeared to be the autopilot system. It was still set to maximum velocity.

“From Captain Riley’s emergency maneuver to dodge Drake’s missiles!” she said out loud. She set the velocity to minimum by tapping an icon.

Jazdie felt the ship shudder and felt herself being pushed out of the chair. She had to grab hold of the console to keep herself from pitching forward. The velocity indicator on the left side of the console began to show the ship slowing.

003.40 km/s

003.08 km/s

002.88 km/s

002.65 km/s

“I think it’s working, Captain Long!”

After a moment, the captain responded. “We see your velocity dropping, Black Dahlia. Good job, Miss Mirth. We’re standing down from alert.”

“Thank you, captain. I don’t know what else to do here. I was . . . sort of . . . just the cook.”

“Where are you from, Miss Mirth?”

“Luna City. My folks have a farm and a water plant. I boarded the B-D two weeks ago. Now I think everyone’s either on Drake’s ship or . . . dead.”

Captain Long looked again at Cmdr. Plaas. “
That
ship!”

“Miss Mirth, this . . . Drake fellow. . . . Did he capture your crew? Is that what you’re saying?”

“Oh no, Drake’s
dead
, that bastard! I killed him myself after he . . . and then . . . I think he got sucked out of the airlock with everyone else.”

“Miss Mirth, we have medical personnel who will be able to help you. We’ll talk more after you’re aboard.”

“Oh, you want me to board? I . . . I don’t know how to do that, sir.”

“We’ll handle docking from here, Miss Mirth.”

“Okay, thank you, captain. And one more thing?”

“Yes, Miss Mirth?”

“Do I get to keep the ship?”

Long looked at Plaas and shook his head.

“Don’t worry, we’ll tow . . .
your
ship
. . . back to Skydock.”

Chapter 22
Invasion

Nekel manned all of
the ship’s systems remotely via wireless. She set course for the space station at L4, then sought out the ship’s armory.

After so many years of inactivity, she had to assume that her people had given her up as lost. And yet, if another agent had been sent, why was there no sign of the mission being undertaken by her replacement? The humans were almost entirely contained on their planet before. Now, they were spreading out fast. Where were the others? Her mission might be irrelevant now that humans had reached the tipping point. Now they had
warships
. How could they have progressed
so damned fast
?

Nekel found the armory and quickly overrode the locks. She examined the human weapons.

What a barbaric race, who would kill each other, especially with such weapons.

She picked up a 45-caliber 2011 and held it in her carbon-gray hand, testing the weight.
Light
. She found a magazine, snapped it in. Then she examined the mechanism to derive its operation, pulled back the slide and released it. She released the hammer and then pulled it back again, and tested the safety switch.

Crude but deadly.

Nekel walked back to the hall and entered the cargo bay carrying a duffel bag. She pulled out the pistol first, and—pointing it at a cargo crate—squeezed the trigger. The explosion was deafening. She picked up another identical pistol, armed it, and held both out and fired through both clips as fast as they were capable of firing. The CNT crate slid a few inches across the floor but otherwise showed no sign of damage.

She put the pistols down and picked up a rifle with the label “M66 TAR 6.8mm” on the side. She found a magazine in the bag and snapped it in, then pulled back the slide and released. She pointed it at a crate in a far corner and used a light pull on the trigger. Six rounds hit the crate in a split second. Despite herself, Nekel smiled. She fired the rest of the clip and then tossed the TAR back into the bag.

Next, she pulled out a bulky rifle that weighed less than it looked like it should. On the side was the label “SCPL 100kw.” She found a charge mag and plugged it in, took aim on the crate, and pulled the contact trigger. The air sizzled along the beam which punched through the crate. Nekel approached it and peered through the coin-sized hole. The beam didn’t penetrate the other side. She disarmed the laser rifle and picked up the bag on her way back to the bridge, thinking all the while how strange humans were.

Eighteen hours later, the communications console chirped. Nekel tapped into the comm system directly to open the channel.

A voice said, “Attention unknown ship. Why are you running without a beacon? Identify yourself and state your business!”

Nekel did not respond.

Through the comm channel, she entered the station’s network. She learned that Tandem-Tesla-Tasc was the principle owner of the old Seerva patents and equipment left in orbit—which amounted to a considerable number of assets. Thousands of X8R robots maintained asteroid mines and associated facilities. T3 was the primary supplier
and
contractor for the UNSC’s military space station in LEO: Skydock Station.

“Skydock?” Nekel said out loud. She adjusted her mission objectives. Luna City was no longer second on the list. Assuming this T3 station, SSL4, has an entangled photon communication device. . . . She browsed the inventories, security systems, and—
yes
,
right there
, a “hypercomm” device. And it was
operational
. . . .

Before even docking, Nekel engaged the hypercomm to her homeworld of Bodekan. How she missed it! A thought sprang into her mind:
What if I go back home and report directly? They would expect that, would they not?

“No,” Nekel said to the lonely bridge around her. “I volunteered for this. My soul is already forfeit.”

Mikel appeared in the hypercomm buffer. He looked around. There was no familiar theme, just whiteness.

Nekel
?

Nekel debated how to respond. Mikel was a curious choice to send. Was he not disincorporated from society? That he was still alive meant she had been out of the loop for far too long. She faced the same fate as he had due to her mission.

A realization dawned on her and she smiled inwardly. She spawned a VI at the hypercomm buffer and engaged him by telepresence.

“I am pleased to see you alive and well, old friend,” Nekel said through the VI’s avatar.

Mikel stared at the avatar with a look of revulsion and took a step back. “Wh—what. . . .”

“It is I, Nekel, obviously. Who else would use this protocol?”

Mikel paused to think for a moment, then looked up. “Avatar of Nekel, I was only startled, did not mean to offend. Of course, I understand, you and I share a common bond.”

“I must admit, I am surprised to see you, my friend. How did you. . . .” Nekel said, trailing off.

“I was granted asylum within the Protestation.”

Nekel’s eyes grew wide with astonishment—an emotion her avatar
could
convey, unlike her borrowed body. “Astonishing! They were trivial. If you are here, then. . . .”

“The Avowed have been overthrown. They are now the minority.”

“Extraordinary. But, that leaves me in a difficult position,” Nekel said.

“Your mission is still recognized. Despite many compromises made during the reorganization, one thing everyone agrees on is the danger posed by the Solars and their undisciplined growth. Their development rate is approaching a vertical line. We have only theorized such an event, never seen it happen.”

Nekel nodded. “Obviously, that is unsustainable. These . . .
humans
. . . as they call themselves, are undisciplined and highly segregated. They are unified only in their selfish hatred for anything different. They revel in their differences. That might lead to xenophobia.”

“Why?” Mikel said. “Those who I first encountered, despite their grave error with me, seemed almost . . . enlightened.”

“A breakout group of technologists and their abomination, nothing more,” Nekel spat with derision.

“The Avowed still consider the Decatur being as Erün’dem, despite what happened to me,” Mikel said.

“An ancient one?” Nekel. “Nonsense. Reason enough for their decline. Though, I am still shocked by this turn of events. Have I been gone so long?”

Mikel smiled. “It has been quite a long time, old friend. I am pleased to see you alive and well.”

“As am I, Mikel. So, I must ask for your advice, under these new circumstances. What should I do?”

“Continue with your mission! And, one more thing. . . .”

“Yes?”

“I’m coming with you.”

* * * *

Should we head down the spoke and camp?” Jolene suggested.

“I wouldn’t mind a walk on the ring again,” Tyron said. “Been about a year since I was here last. It’s not that long of a ride down.”

“I was thinking of just staying here. There are cots, restrooms. . . .”

“Well, I don’t mind rations,” Tyron said.

“If the choice is a cot and real bathroom versus sleeping on the grass down there, I choose the cot. Not a nature person,” Leslie said.

“That’s another thing,” Andy said. “We should provision this hangar as a real rest stop. At least a self-serve kitchen. And down at the spoke docks, we need basic services for travelers. Cots, water, bathroom. At least the basics. I mean, there aren’t many of us here, so it’s not like someone will just—”

“
What . . . the . . . hell. . . .”
Leslie whispered. She was standing near the large window facing the docking bays.”

“What is it?” Jolene asked.

They walked toward the window to see what she was staring at.

Tyron’s jaw fell open.

Jolene whispered, “
Oh. My. God
.”

Gliding gracefully toward the outer shipyard dock was the largest ship any of them had ever seen. They couldn’t even see the upper half of the ship due to the angle of the window and the hangar’s ceiling. The ship’s size defied any sense of scale. A multitude of maneuvering jets fired around the huge nose of the mighty vessel, causing it to stop precisely in line with the docking port, which seemed minuscule.

“Is that an alien. . . .” Leslie whispered, trailing off.

Andy looked at his three friends. “
Tau Cetians?
”

The automatic docking port clamped onto the side of the ship and compressed the seal to lock it in place.

“Uh, no, I don’t think so. . . .” Tyron said. “Someone would have detected a ship that big entering the system.”

“Then what. . . .?”

A status screen on the hangar control board nearby began to blink green.

“What does that mean?” Leslie asked anxiously.

“Hmm?” Tyron said, looking more closely at the controls. He sat in the mounted chair in front of the desk-like control board. “Looks like this station just handles the docking system outside. Oh! Someone’s coming out of the ship.”

They all stared at a large screen above the desk as Tyron zoomed in on the docking port attached to the new ship. Andy peered through the window but it was too far to see clearly and the docks were opaque anyway. A camera was in the main tunnel looking toward the dock entrance. As they stared apprehensively, a shape came out of the airlock.

“Oh, it’s just a man,” Leslie said.

“I’m not so sure,” Jolie said.

“
It’s an alien!
” Tyron shouted, jumping out of the chair.

“Wait a minute,” Andy said soothingly, putting a hand on Tyron’s shoulder. “Chill a minute. That’s no alien.”

“Huh?”

“Look again,” Andy said.

The visitor was humanoid, about six feet tall, average build (a bit thin), and seemed to be wearing a full body suit, dark gray in color.

Andy walked toward the large airlock hatch leading into the docking bays, smiling hugely. His three friends held back, tentatively.

The airlock cycled and the figured stepped out, facing Andy. “Greetings, Andy Grant. I am delighted to see you again.” It held out its hand.

Andy grabbed the hand enthusiastically. “Who . . . which one . . . uh. . . .”

“I am the fourth. You may call me Inquisitor. That was the name given to me by Prime.”

“That was a long time ago, Four! Uh, sorry,
Inquisitor
. By the way, that’s a strange name.”

“Andy? What’s that thing doing up here? I thought all of the . . . walking ones stopped working?” Leslie asked, leery of the newcomer.

“Whoa, are you really . . . Decatur?” Tyron whispered excitedly.

“Where have you
been?
” Jolene demanded. “Do you know what a mess you left us in here, just . . . disappearing without a trace, with no warning? We nearly
starved
, goddammit!”

Inquisitor bowed his head as Andy put an arm around Jolene’s shoulders and escorted her a few yards away.

“You’re right, we did leave you in a bad way. I am deeply sorry that our departure put your lives in danger.”

“What happened?” Andy asked plainly.

“Let’s go back to Harmony colony and call a town meeting,” Inquisitor said. “I have much to tell you and wish to speak to as many of you as possible.”

“Okay, well, it’s about two hours back down, and we are all pretty worn out. Not much to eat, nowhere to sleep. We were sent here by the council to look into that ship over there,” Andy said, pointing at the half-finished hull in the hangar.

“Oh, that. Yes, I remember that ship!” Inquisitor said jovially. “I oversaw it’s construction up to that point, before we were summoned.”

“Well, guys, what do you think? Head back to the elevators? I guess we could sleep in the recliners and eat some of these rations,” Jolene said, pulling a snack bar out of her pocket.

“The ship is fully stocked with nutrient raws and food fabricators for the trip back to Earth,” Inquisitor said. “The crew area is a long walk from the airlock, though. Slidewalks are available if you would like to refresh yourselves on board. I do not mind waiting until you have rested before going down the vine.”

“That’s a tempting offer,” Leslie said.

“But, the return of Decatur is momentous news, folks,” Tyron said ecstatically. “I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep tonight unless we’re on our way. The council
must
be informed.”

“Inquisitor. . . .” Andy started to say.

“Yes?”

“Are all of you. . . .”

“Do you mean to ask if all of my colleagues have returned with me?”

“Yes, exactly.”

“They are, though not here with me at the moment.”

Inquisitor thought of admitting that they have been snooping around in the shadows for several weeks already, but thought better of the idea.