Deep Darkness, Page 2

  He cleared his throat. “Have a seat, Lieutenant,” he said, and motioned to a chair across from him.

  “Thank you, sir,” she replied politely, and sat down.

  Moments later, Captain Renton, an imposing man, tapped the door frame. “Colonel,” he said crisply, nodding his head toward Rexhaut.

  “Come right in, Captain. Please, close the door.” Rexhaut motioned him to take a seat.

  “Sir.” Bill Renton settled his muscular frame into a seat next to Ellyse and gave her a brief once-over, admiring her good looks. He then cleared his throat and gave his attention to T-Rex.

  As he opened the meeting, Rexhaut swatted at a fly that was buzzing his face. He was amazed that with all the preparations and sterilizing of the fleet’s ships and crews, a few insects always got through. It reminded him of the tenacity of life itself—there was always a way to survive.

  He was sitting at the small table facing his officers. Breaking the ice, he looked into Ellyse’s blue eyes. “Lieutenant Balzak? How are the preliminary scans going?”

  She cleared her throat and looked directly into T-Rex’s brown eyes. “We have not yet had a solid return on the target. It is very nondescript at this time. As for the scans of the extra-Neptunian space, we get no returns. No Kuiper belt objects—nothing at all. It’s as though everything is being absorbed. Very odd.” She shrugged and placed her hands palm up on the table. “We hope to learn more as we get closer.”

  “Hmm,” Rexhaut replied, absently rubbing the stubble on his chin. “How many hours from the target are we?”

  “Approximately one-hundred-forty—a little less than six days, sir. We’re hoping for better resolution as we get nearer.”

  “Can you tell me anything else about the target?”

  “Yes, sir.” She hesitated for just a moment and carefully thought about her words. “Our best guesses right now are still inconclusive. Our scopes are having trouble resolving the object, but scans indicate possible symmetry, which is usually not naturally occurring, as you know. And, it seems to be shimmering.”

  He felt his eyebrows rise and a slight chill run up his spine. “Thank you, Lieutenant.” He clasped his hands together for a moment, and then turned his attention to Captain Renton. He studied the man’s steely eyes and bulldog face. He was a man who did not take guff from anyone. “How is the readiness of your team, Captain?”

  Renton set his jaw. “My men are ready and fully equipped, sir. We can repel a boarding party, and we’ll fight to the death if we need to attack any hostiles.” He sat straight up and pulled his tunic into place. “You can count on us!”

  T-Rex considered what the man had said. He knew he could count on him and his team, but wondered if they would even get a chance to fight. All he could say was: “Thank you, Captain. Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

  T-Rex took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He dropped his tone of formality. He believed in letting his lead officers in on what he knew—it made for more loyalty and trust. His eyes moved, alternating to-and-fro between the two officers. “Lieutenant, Captain—I must share with you that the upper-echelon suspects the target may be hostile. I don’t know how they came to that conclusion. Maybe there’s something they’re not telling us.” He paused and took a breath. “I suggest discretion. Please keep me informed immediately of anything suspicious either of you hears or sees. Any questions?”

  Balzak and Renton exchanged glances, and being in agreement said, “No.”

  “Very well, then. Carry on.”

  They all stood in unison. Renton nodded and walked hurriedly from the room while Ellyse lingered momentarily. She turned and rested a hand on the door frame. “Sir,” she said softly, “I—I was saddened to hear about your wife. I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner.” She pursed her lips and stood still, framing herself in the doorway.

  Caught a little off-guard, Rexhaut stumbled on his reply. “Oh—um—thank you. Yeah—it’s been—uh—difficult. I appreciate your concern, Lieutenant.”

  Her comment awakened his memory, and he suddenly became very troubled over the possibility of news spies, or “New-News”, as they had come to be known, infiltrating the Marine unit. He knew his hand-picked crew very well, but the assault team was an unknown. The New-News were becoming increasingly troublesome as of late, and had blown open several high-profile anti-terror missions, including the sortie his wife had been part of. Their involvement had been the cause of her death.

  After a long, uncomfortable minute of reflection, Rexhaut motioned her to come back into the cabin and close the door. Then, dropping formality, he asked: “Ellyse? I need to know. Do you trust Renton to keep quiet? Do you think he’s as good and loyal as he seems?”

  She thought for a moment, and caught his meaning. “Well—I did serve with him on Ganymede quite a few years ago—he seemed like a straight arrow then,” she shrugged, “but, who knows nowadays? There is so much money to be made—.” Her voice trailed off and she looked down at the deck.

  “Yeah. Damn news organizations. Like hyenas chasing their prey—but what they do out here is tantamount to treason.” He spat the word angrily, and turned away from Balzak. He flopped into his chair and sighed. “Those bastards—.” He fought to maintain control, gulping deeply. “Those bastards transmitted a video of my wife’s execution—.” He felt himself losing control and motioned for Ellyse to leave.

  She stood stubbornly inside the closed door.

  Then, as he sat with his head in his hands and stifled a sob, she approached, and gently placing a hand on his shoulder, said softly, “Sir, its okay to grieve. I can not even imagine what you are going through.” She felt a warm tear running down her cheek, and was surprised at her own reaction to Rexhaut’s mood. She suddenly realized she had some affection for her boss—and why she respected him: because he was such a good man and a solid leader.

  A few minutes of silence followed as each dealt with their emotions.

  It was T-Rex who finally broke the silence after settling himself down. He turned with the redness of anger on his face. “Ellyse,” he said quietly, “Thank you for your support and understanding.” He reached for her cheek and gently wiped away a small tear. He looked into her eyes sincerely. “We’ve served together for a long time. I trust you with my life.”

  She stifled a sob. “Thank you, sir. The feeling is mutual.” She squeezed his shoulder and waited for him to speak.

  He cleared his throat and spoke in a firm and serious tone. “And now, I need your eyes and ears. If you find anyone to be an embedded New-New, let me know. I will deal with them personally.”

  A dark, foreboding expression came over his face, and she knew instantly that it would not be a good situation for a spy if Rexhaut were to discover one aboard.

  She did not respond verbally—she simply nodded.

  Rexhaut began to feel uncomfortable, realizing he had bared his emotions. He trusted Balzak implicitly, but still, he should not have shown weakness. And for the first time he also felt attracted to the lieutenant—and that was very much against his ethics as an officer. If this had been another time and place in his life, he might have considered pursuing a relationship with her. But—.

  He suddenly cleared his throat, startling her, and said, putting up his emotional wall once again, “Thank you for your support—I really appreciate it. We need to get back to work. Please carry on with what you were doing.” He smiled and tugged his tunic straight as he side-stepped his desk and walked Lieutenant Balzak to the door.

  She was surprised and a bit taken aback, but deep-down she knew why her boss was shuffling her out. She was feeling some warmth, perhaps even love toward him, having served together for so long, and her heart was breaking for him now. She hid her feelings, and simply nodded and smiled. As she opened the door, she said, “I have your six, sir,” then strode, stifling a sob, onto the bridge.

  * * *

  Jeel had handed off the bridge operations to Zaa and was aboard a capsule ins
ide a peristaltic transfer tube on his way to the heart of his ship, the generator room. He was in a meditative mood, and marveled at the technology that was built into his craft as he was rhythmically and gently squeezed through the conduit, the soothing violet and blue bioluminescent light seeping through the wall of his pod.

  He wondered about the little craft that was now slowing down on its approach toward his ship. Were they going to attempt an attack? Would they be reasonable creatures? Would he even be able to communicate with them?

  They seemed to be belligerent, and as he thought about their studies of the species, he knew he might need to fight them—and he was willing to destroy them—but only if it was absolutely necessary.

  After a while he arrived at his destination and was led through a routine inspection of the generator unit. All was well, so, upon completion he decided to go to the observation deck atop one of the field transmission arms, and once there, to his delight, found himself alone.

  He sighed momentarily, glad to take a brief respite from the stress of command as he approached a wide-field viewport and took in the spectacular panorama before him. In the deep, velvety blackness he saw the bright pinprick of light that was the sun; looking cold and lonely in the depths of space. He dimmed the lighting, and as his eyes adjusted, he was able to make out the reflections of three out of the four gas planets and two of the rocky planets suspended in the blackness.

  Then loneliness crept into his thoughts. So far from home. So very far. He missed his family deeply. It had been nearly twelve cycles since he had seen his mate and offspring. He was deeply divided between his loyalty to his family and his allegiance to the Queen, and he had been considering an action with no precedent—a request to leave the service. No other had ever attempted it, even though there was no rule in the Charter of Service that would prevent it.

  He made a snap decision, there and then, to make such a request upon completion of this mission. It would be made with the utmost respect directly to the Queen.

  He stood in deep meditation at the viewport for some time before stepping away from the spectacularly stark vista and entering the transfer capsule to return to the bridge.

  * * *

  Rapier was decelerating quickly as it approached the target, and Rexhaut’s anxiety was mounting. He watched the bridge monitors intently as they neared the object. It appeared to be quite large. “How far away are we, Lieutenant?”

  She was monitoring her view screen and measuring scans. She hesitated, then, with an incredulous expression on her face, said: “The scanner says two-hundred kilometers, sir…”

  Rexhaut’s eyebrows rose suddenly and a chill ran through him. He looked directly at Balzak. “Are you sure?”

  Her eyes were as wide as his. “Yes. The readings are fluctuating slightly because of the shimmer from it—but—yes.”

  The interloper was huge. Even at that distance, it nearly filled the view screens. It appeared to be vibrating; deep violet and reddish waves undulating around the central body of the craft, while bright blue and yellow waves ran up and down the six appendages radiating out in symmetrically opposed directions from the main body.

  T-Rex tried to reason out what he was seeing. It took him nearly a minute to speak. “Okay,” he said at last, scratching at his chin, “Slow to rendezvous speed. Steer toward the center of the object.”

  “Aye, sir.” Balzak took a deep breath and followed the order.

  Tomás Rexhaut had always considered himself as being cool under fire, but he now found himself feeling queasy as he realized they were obviously approaching an extra-solar spacecraft—a vehicle of considerable size and power. He stared into the monitor intently as they slid ever closer to the craft; his heart rate climbing with every passing kilometer.

  Suddenly, Corporal Jeb Stuart, the communications officer, unbelted and floated from his station in the null gravity, then made his way to Lieutenant Balzak and whispered in her ear. Her eyes went wide as she motioned for her back-up helmsman, navigator Corporal Janet Hennings, to take over. She unbuckled herself and turned to T-Rex.

  She spoke in hushed tones. “Sir. We have a rogue transmission aboard. Definitely on a New-New frequency.”

  Rexhaut looked around the bridge. All of his crew was present and occupied with their duties. Instantly he hit the com button. “Captain Renton to the bridge, immediately.” He tried to keep his voice calm, and hoped he had succeeded. He then whispered to Balzak, “When he gets here, tell him what’s happening, then go with him and catch the bastard!”

  She nodded and turned toward the hatchway to wait for Renton.

  His blood was boiling. This was a top-secret mission, and now it was probably compromised. He cursed under his breath and tried to focus on the task at hand, all the while thinking subconsciously about how he would deal with the New-New.

  Tension mounted as they neared the alien craft, now less than one-hundred kilometers away. Its gargantuan size was nearly overwhelming everyone’s senses as they watched their screens; and Rexhaut observed several of his crew wiping sweat from their brows.

  The air seemed to thicken; honey-like and heavy. There was a silence which was unlike anything T-Rex had felt before. As time slowly passed and they drew ever closer to the leviathan, there was a palpable increase of dread that came over the bridge: it was substantial—oppressive—and frightening.

  They finally came to within one kilometer of the beast, and suddenly Rapier came to a dead stop. Rexhaut turned to Hennings. “Did you stop the ship?”

  She turned to him with a bewildered expression. “No, sir! The helm just ceased functioning. I—I, um—” She shrugged and began to fidget with the controls. “No response, sir!”

  The air seemed to thicken more, and the entire bridge crew experienced labored breathing. Time seemed to stretch…

  * * *

  Jeel had been monitoring the approach of the small vessel via view-screens and his neural net. When he felt the intruder had come too near for its own safety, he compressed his thoughts around the tiny vehicle and stopped it cold. He wondered if the beings on the ship were either stupid or amazingly brave.

  But, as he probed with his mind, he sensed—fear and—confusion. It was a strange mixture of emotions; emotions he had never quite felt in other alien beings. He relaxed and tried to pick out individuals.

  And then an entity, a leader, a strong willed, but conflicted one, stood out…

  * * *

  Tomás Rexhaut was having trouble clearing his head. He finally fought the fuzziness off when Renton and Balzak floated onto the deck, shaking their heads. Their expressions were grim. He raised an eyebrow as if to ask: Well?

  Captain Renton spoke first. “The New-New was one of mine, sir. PFC Buitrago.”

  T-Rex frowned. “Was?”

  “Yes, sir. He’s dead.” He looked away and sighed.

  “Dead? What the hell happened?”

  Lieutenant Balzak took over. “We found him in equipment room Bravo-Fourteen. He was preparing to transmit images from a portable viewer. When he saw us, he tried to draw his sidearm, but Captain Renton was ready. He hit him in head with a full-power neutron stream.”

  Fast and efficient.

  Then, just as Rexhaut was about to reply, he was stunned to see everyone on the bridge suddenly become catatonic. Then he gasped as something seemed to grab him deep inside. It was a consciousness, alien and powerful.

  He fought the feeling of fear and being controlled by an outside presence, then seeing that Renton and Balzak were floating about bumping into things, he unbuckled his harness and launched himself toward them. He placed Balzak in his control chair, buckled her in, and then repeated the process by placing Renton in the communications chair.

  When he felt everything was secured, he took a second to look at the main view screen. He was astonished to see a long, shimmering, blue-green snake-like appendage slowly extending itself from a domed structure near the center of the asteroid-sized ship.

&nb
sp; And it was coming toward them!

  He tried not to panic as his eyes stared at the screen. And then, suddenly, he felt an inner calm and became enraptured by the slithering movement of the appendage as it floated toward his ship. It drew ever closer, and within a few minutes, Rexhaut felt, more than heard, a sucking resonance as the open end of the umbilical attached itself to the outer personnel hatch of Rapier.

  A few more minutes passed before he began to feel as though another mind was intruding and melding with his, and he felt his strength of will wearing down. It was not frightening, but somewhat peaceful—and then he felt compelled to move toward the airlock—slowly and deliberately.

  He tried to push back mentally, but he began to feel a bit giddy. And again he felt obliged to move toward the hatch. He pulled his body forward along the bulkhead until he reached the inner hatch. He checked the gauges, making sure the pressure was equalized, and pressed the release. The hatch opened with a slight pop and slid into the bulkhead. His reasoning powers were impeded and he could no longer fight the urge to obey the intrusive suggestions.

  “What am I doing?” he muttered as he floated into the airlock, and then chuckled. He felt intoxicated. He closed and sealed the inner hatch and cycled the airlock to equalize the pressure on the outer door. In his impaired state of mind, he still had the sense to check for breathable atmosphere on the other side of the hatch. When the safe light illuminated, he threw the switch and held his breath in anticipation of what was to come. The outer door slid open to reveal a glowing iris. It was blue and violet, and pulsed soothingly. As his eyes adjusted to the strange lighting, he finally let himself breathe, and thought: This is crazy! He shook his head to clear it, and a new suggestion, or more like a feeling—not words, intruded: You are safe.

  He floated in stunned silence. After a few moments, he saw the iris begin to open, and he was hit with a wave of the freshest, sweetest air he had ever known. He breathed deeply and took in as much of the cool, moist air as he could, and he felt—alive. All of the stress and depression he had been feeling seemed to fade into distant memory.