The Pathfinder Project (51 page)

“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.

THE PATHFINDER PROJECT

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
.