Skies Over Tomorrow: Constellation (22 page)

BOOK: Skies Over Tomorrow: Constellation
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“Colonel, we've come a very long way,” said Rehana. “Is it not the objective of the Alto to explore inhabitable planets for the expansion of the Federation? Despite the second mission directive to survey only the first planet, I thought it best to follow standard protocol and first survey in-depth Kepler One-five-two-two.”

“I've been entrusted to command this vessel and its crew,” the colonel said, “and I believe I am doing an exceptional job—except with you two.”

“Sir,” Vincent said, “if I may—”

“After this closed debriefing, you both are confined to quarters until we return to Mars. Furthermore, effective immediately, your mission bonuses are nullified, and you are restricted from calling home.”

Rehana's eyes widen in disbelief; she felt as though a cruel joke was being played on her. It seemed she was destined not to talk with her sister.

“Sir—”

“That's my final word on the matter. I hope that you find my ruling fair.”

“Yes, sir,” said Vincent.

“Lieutenant Hayes?”

“Fair indeed, sir.”

“Understand,” said the colonel, “this penalization will be a slap on the wrist compared to what the High Council will offer. I figure a dishonorable discharge, nullification of flight licenses and privileges, perhaps even a few years in the mines of the Gagarin penal colony. They will not be pleased that you ruined their plans for contacting what they believe to be the original inhabitants of Mars.”

“What?” said Rehana; she and Vincent look at one another for a moment before looking back to their superiors.

The colonel gauged the dumbfounded reactions of his lieutenants, and then said, “Major Gordo will explain.”

The adjutant stood. “This is a closed debriefing because what is about to be revealed to you is classified,” he said. “You are not to speak of this to anyone, and I do mean anyone, including one another. What you will see and learn here is to remain in this room, regardless of the fact that the entire crew of the Alto knows of the alien encounter. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” both pilots said in unison, Vincent emphasizing his words with a slight nod of his head.

There was a moment of silence, and then the major said, “This goes back to the infancy of the Federation, when it ascertained that the old Earth SETI program had received an extraordinary signal. It was extraordinary because it had transmitted from a relay posting on the moon of Deimos. The discovery had been during a time when the Earth of yesteryear was deeply engulfed in strife. What could have united humanity had been concealed by the leaders of the time, as they felt it was best to hide it. Our predecessors who started out on Mars, after declaring independence to restrain the conflict to Earth, thought otherwise; and, in a word, acquired the SETI program. The quest to decipher the signal is what gave them focus and saved humanity.”

“Excuse me, Major,” the colonel said. “Just so you won't ask me why I disclosed what you are about to see and hear, I asked Major Gordo and Doctor Tiné Foston, here, to make this presentation because I want you to understand the importance of this mission to the Federation. Continue, Major Gordo.”

“SETI, which officially does not exist, was completely overhauled and headquartered on the dark side of Earth's moon. It works with the GDI through the Shadow Sector of that organization. Since its acquisition, SETI has worked toward deciphering the signal. From excavations of the relay site, the first clue to decoding it was found. Characters that identified and gave instructions for the relay's operation were found to be similar to Medu Neter.”

“Excuse me,” said Vincent. “Similar to what?”

“Medu Neter,” Dr. Foston said. “The base language of all humanity's contemporary languages.”

At a loss, Vincent looked to Rehana, who shrugged her shoulder with a slight jerk. She was just as confounded.

“It is also referred to as hieroglyphs,” said Dr. Foston.

Rehana leaned toward Vincent and said in a whisper, “The markings on the leader.”

“Dr. Foston is with SETI,” the major then said. “She is versed in a number of antiquated Earth languages. With her linguistic insight of Medu Neter and a background in astrophysics, specializing in photonic communication, she decoded the signal, and this is what it said.”

The major opened a small console built into the table and pushed a button. The lights dimmed, and having pushed another button, he sat down, as a section of the left wall centered on the conference table peeled back and revealed a screen.

On the monitor appeared the face of an alien like that of the encountered female fighter. The eyes were exactly the same. This one was male, and his layered garments and opulent headdress were elaborate and majestic. He spoke in the same harsh, broken tone with the same hostile look. After a few seconds, the major paused the playback of the message and brightened the lights.

Rehana lowered her head; her fingers massaged her forehead before her hand came down over her face and rested in her lap. “Excuse me,” she said, “but this isn't making sense.”

“It will,” the colonel said. “Dr. Foston.”

“Lieutenant Hayes, Lieutenant Craver,” she said, standing. “I understand this may not be making sense, not without all the pieces to the puzzle. It's hard to see the whole picture without all the pieces. But if you make enough logical guesses, then of course you'll start to see something, though it might be hazy. The astral chasm was initially hazy, but the hypotheses of its existence were later proven to be the right guesses.”

“The wormhole. Okay, we're with you, so far,” said Vincent.

“When SETI was relocated to Earth's moon, it discovered the relay was sending out a continuous signal, along the same line of the initial signal it had received, but for some reason, it wasn't going far. It simply vanished into space.”

Rehana shifted, glancing at Vincent before redirecting her attention to Doctor Foston.

“I'll be brief,” she said. “The alien transmitter did not become active until it detected activity on Mars, starting with, we believe, the 1976 landers of the Viking program, and then with the subsequent rover programs beginning in the early twenty-first century, and finally with the colonization of Mars in 2111.”

“Are you saying our exploration and colonization of Mars tripped an alarm of some sort that alerted them?” Rehana said.

“Take a look at this,” Dr. Foston said. “Major Gordo, if you'd resume playback, please.”

The lights dimmed again, and the message resumed its playback of the alien's brusque tongue. His image faded to an actual atlas of the Sol system. The alien's voice continued to speak as the three-dimensional map twisted and zoomed in on the fourth planet from the sun. Then Doctor Foston said, “These aliens once lived on Mars, and in this transmission, it isn't explained why they left it, but we are being warned to vacate before they, as he says, return home.”

“This is too much,” Vincent said as the lights brightened.

“You think so,” said Dr. Foston. “If I may return to how the signal was disappearing: SETI discovered what they had believed to be dark matter in a stabilized and synchronized orbit around Mars. From the surface, there was a some slight distortion of stars. From space, the view of Mars remained intact. In delving into this phenomenon, it was found that it wasn't dark matter, but rather, the alien's technological approach to invisibility. Though we know it is based in photonics, it still eludes us. Nonetheless, we knew something was there, cloaked.”

“The wormhole,” said Rehana.

“Yes, the portal of the astral chasm,” Dr. Foston said. “After its discovery and further scrutiny, it was found to be a gateway to Kepler One-five-two-two, which as you know had long been identified since the twenty-first century, during the Discovery Program of that time.”

Rehana cleared her throat and turned to Colonel Moore and said, “We've been sent here to assess them, haven't we?”

“What?” said Vincent.

Dead silence fell over the crisp atmosphere of the briefing room, as Dr. Foston retook her seat. Rehana's agitation was apparent to her commanding officer, whose elbows now rested on the glossy tabletop. His stout chin laid atop his folded hands. The eyes of the lieutenant and the colonel locked, and then he said, “You now realize the magnitude of this mission since Mars is now our home.”

“We didn't ruin any plans of the High Council,” Rehana said. “First contact is irrelevant, as these aliens have already done so, with this message. You sent Zeta Squad and us out there to encounter them, to fight with them, because the High Council wants to determine their threat level. That's our only purpose for being here, isn't it? I wouldn't be surprised if you volunteered the Alto for this mission.”

“Good, you've made some logical guesses of your own, to see the whole picture,” said the colonel. “Let me affirm your presumption by saying that you are correct. The High Council has in fact already decided how the Federation will contend with these aliens.”

“And Lieutenant Craver and myself are now the fall guys for this supposed first and disastrous contact, right? To protect the High Council for violating protocols, in which they should have at least sought the aliens in good will despite their message?”

“You are a good officer, and a good pilot, Lieutenant,” said Colonel Moore. “Your only flaw is your passion for exploration. It all too often leads you to bending and even breaking the rules; but that is exactly what has made you well suited for this mission.” Then the colonel leaned back in his seat and said, “We all have roles to play, Lieutenant Hayes. We all will make the ultimate sacrifice sooner or later. There is a bright side for you and Lieutenant Craver. There still exists the opportunity of a second chance, as it is only your livelihoods that you both will have to give up.”

“Instead of our lives, is that right, sir?” Rehana said.

“Stand fast, Lieutenant,” said the major.

The colonel lifted his hand to ask his adjutant to restrain himself, and then he said, “It seems you have something more to say, Lieutenant Hayes.”

“With all due respect, Colonel, the truth of what has happened here will eventually come to light. Eight of our shipmates that served under you are dead. Eight people could probably still be alive if they had known they would encounter hostile aliens, and better planned for it. Eight out of eleven, sir. The truth is, their deaths are in vain because you with the blessing of the High Council, have essentially murdered them.”

“That's enough!” said Major Gordo, rising from his chair. “I'm warning you, Lieutenant. Contempt and slander are treasonous offenses.”

Vincent dropped his head with a few shakes.

Colonel Moore once again waved his adjutant to stand-down, and when the major sat, Moore then said, “In the end, Lieutenant Hayes, the truth won't matter.”

“It will to me,” she said. “You sent us out there to die. Under what authority do you have to decide who and when any of us will make the so-called ultimate sacrifice?”

“You're out of line, Lieutenant!” Major Gordo said.

Silence interjected as the colonel looked at his subordinates, and then he said, “Understand this: Mars is now our home—the heart of everything we hold dear. No sacrifice is or will be in vain if for the defense of home. As officers of the Macrocosm Alliance Corps, as any good officer or soldier knows, those uniforms are worn because of a pledge of sacrifice for the Federation, for home.” Then he nodded to his adjutant.

“You're both dismissed,” Major Gordo said. “The sentries outside will escort you to your quarters.”

The recon team stood and saluted, and the colonel nodded once. The scouts dropped their hands and stepped away from the table and, executing an about-face, exited the conference room, meeting the guards that waited on them. Rehana concealed her soreness under a stiff military stride, as Vincent walked to her left, with the two guards trailing them.

“This is serious,” said Vincent. “We're all going to die.”

Rehana was quiet.

“We—the Alto, this crew—are all on borrowed time,” he then said.

“Believe me,” said Rehana, “it's going to get far worse.”

Her words were code to Vincent that she was not going to simply standby or standdown and do nothing about the danger facing them, their shipmates, and the Alto. Of course, if anyone could find a way out of a jam, it would be recon team Alpha Omega Nine. It would just take some time to figure out how to resolve the situation, which they both would have plenty of under confinement.

The remainder of the walk to the officers' garrison deck was quiet. When they reached the entrance of Rehana's quarters, she pressed a button right of the entry, and the door slid into the wall. Before crossing its threshold, she looked back to her co-pilot, with a familiar look from the corner of her eye, and she said, “Be sure to relax.”

Vincent nodded, forcing himself to restrain his smile. He was relaxed, and ready to make a move when she was ready.

Lieutenant Hayes entered her quarters, as one of the two guards took his post outside her door.

O
F LORDS AND LADIE
S

“Lord Garai, there is another Nousalavian who seeks amity,” Emperor Ohin said to his Shadow Knight, who bowed before him with a bent knee and a lowered head.

“Then I shall kill that peacemaker, Your Excellency, as I have killed those of before.”

“This time, I have wind that this priest-monk shall have an escort: Lady Ayame.”

“Lady Ayame, First Knight of the House of Sarauniya. Revenge being our savior, my lord, I shall be rid of her as well.”

“Nay, you shall exact vengeance in the most malign way, to our contentment, such that the House of Sarauniya—and all of Enteria—will agonize for generations to come. They must suffer as we have suffered.”

“I understand, my lord, but how?”

“To the unwary, fate offers irony, Lord Garai, and ironic it now is that Lady Ayame supports the cause taken up by this most recent priest, when it is she who led the House of Sarauniya against us. You shall twist her fate even further. Lady Ayame will be taken by this priest-monk as his mate. Kill him as a reminder of the illusion of peace, but for Lady Ayame—dishonor her, and the House of Sarauniya shall fall in disgrace. From squabbling over which house shall rise in its place, only then will Nousalavians weaken.”

“Rest assured, my lord. With the death of the priest-monk, the House of Sarauniya shall fall.”

“Then may the Creator's wisdom guide you.”

Garai stood, bowed before the soaring throne upon which sat his emperor, and then took seven steps backward. He turned about, whipping his cape, and as he left the chamber of his king with a smile, he waved a hand before his face, masking his appearance with a featureless facade.

“Tag!” The arbiter's hand went up in favor of Lady Ayame.

“What is the matter, Shen?” she said. “Can you not do better?”

Shen looked up at his sparring partner with a cordial smile. He stood and dusted himself off. “Your ego has gotten the best of you,” he said, taking a defensive stance.

“We're even. The next tag wins this bout. You are ready, yes?”

“I'm curious. Will you have the same heart if you should lose a wager?”

Lady Ayame's smile flourished before Shen. “Very well,” she said, “and if you should lose?”

“I am open to your terms.”

Ayame lunged forward with a fist. Blocking the punch, Shen countered with a rising knee. Ayame parried the midsection attack and pushed the monk off balance. With his back to her, she was quick to follow up for the tag, but stumbled from his reverse sweep and staggered back, right into a backward handspring to avoid Shen's strong rising roundhouse, and continued to back flip from his ensuing hurricane of kicks in which he chased after her. One tumble flowed into a single-handed cartwheel, as Ayame caught one of Shen's foot-throws by his ankle and, flipping once more, pulled him to the earth, and releasing her grip, she vaulted into a backward somersault and landed a split, her legs stretched out to her sides. She stopped long enough to see Shen scrambling for her, and then rolled over into a handstand, dropped to her feet, and stood upright.

“Tag!” the arbitrator said, and he bowed.

The dust settled, and Shen's left palm rested against Lady Ayame's heaving chest. She thought she had placed enough distance between them. The onlookers of monks and squires were quiet with anticipation as the two combatants stared at each other, locked in their positions. Ayame, in a stance from which she planned to counter Shen's offense, was in disbelief, as he held his right hand drawn back in a fist, ready to deliver a follow up strike.

“You have become quick,” she said. “Days ago you were slower than time.”

“You have trained me well.”

“If that is so, then I should not be standing. The initial hit of the Equinox that has won you this bout is weak, and you did not follow through with the second move.”

Shen tilted his fist from side to side a few times.

“Is it your intent to ridicule me before my house?” Ayame then said. “To teach me a lesson for underestimating you?”

“Do not spite me with such conjectures for it is disheartening to hear. Have we not become more than just opponents for the sake of practice?”

“We have, and I am sorry,” said Ayame, “but why have you executed the Equinox in this manner, and not as I have taught you? It is meant to disable a—”

“To garner your attention, first of all,” Shen said. “Mostly though, to affirm your trust in me.”

Lady Ayame looked at the priest-monk with a blank face.

“Because you have opened your heart to me, as I have to you, know that I will never hurt you.”

Ayame gasped from realizing his show of devotion, and flushed, looked at Shen in earnest, as he lowered his right hand. Leaving his left hand in place, he felt the quickened beat of her pounding chest, as she could only muster a heartfelt smile after being taken off guard.

“Now, do you yield? I do not believe we are disciplined enough to hold these positions forever.”

They chuckled, breaking their stances, as Ayame said, “Aye, I yield.” She moved to her knees. Of her squires, some frowned while others threw up their hands. “What is the condition for having lost?” she said.

Shen walked off and over to her attendant-at-arms. “You,” he said. “Give me your blade.”

The head squire drew his weapon and handed it over. The priest-monk returned and stood before Lady Ayame, who, still on her knees, lowered her head. A sense of elation charged her spirit and accelerated her heartbeat; it had yet to be still. “We will not be able to look upon another for a year,” she said. “Be sure this is what you want.”

Shen unpinned her plum hair, and it fell and dangled a couple of inches above the ground. Having placed the pin between his lips, he pulled Ayame's hair up and tied it in a knot, and then maneuvered the knife and cut her hair below the binding. A few onlookers applauded, as a monk ran off, and a squire mounted his pack animal and rode out of the courtyard of the temple.

Shen turned his back to Ayame, and while pinning and coiling the severed ponytail, he said, “In a year's time, when I do see you again, it shall please me to look upon you as my wife.” He walked three paces from her and said, “Until then.”

Lady Ayame stood, and as she walked pass Shen, he turned counterclockwise. During the entire time that she and her party packed and loaded their gear on their pack animals and mounted the catlike horses, his back was to her. The head squire, after blindfolding his lady, as to ensure no eye contact was made between her and her mate, guided the animal that she rode back to their house. Even as Ayame left the temple and traveled far down the mountain road that coursed from the sanctuary and into the forest, the mental, spiritual, emotional bonds between her and Shen were very strong, as she said,
“I trust you.”

“As I you, Ayame.”

The noble smiled.
“Goodbye, Shen.”

“Goodbye.”

A juvenile monk walked from the open gate and tapped Shen on the shoulder. “Lady Ayame's party has departed, Master,” the youth said.

“Shen!”

He looked and saw his master coming out into the courtyard, and tucked the hair of his mate-to-be under the sleeve of his left arm, into an inside pouch.

“Shen, is it true? My ears ring with news that you consorted Lady Ayame.”

“Aye, it is true, Elder Akron.”

“Then it is as the High Priestess envisioned. We knew you would trek with Lady Ayame,” he said. “Since the day you met her, your eyes have been like the lake after a fresh rainfall. Aye, a transparent-looking glass your eyes are. Into your heart, one can see.”

“Does the High Priestess approve?”

“It matters not. You have earned the title of Priest-Monk. Your right to leave the temple is a wise choice. I understand that the House of Sarauniya has been without a disciple of the Creator for quite awhile. Their house shall be stronger after your union.”

“I do not join with Sarauniya's champion to make her house stronger, Elder. Remember, Lady Ayame believes as I do, and together we will restore the Holy Orb and bring peace to all, Nousalavians and Sharizardians alike.”

“You still seek the Holy Orb, then?”

“Aye,” said Shen.

“Some have gone before to restore the Orb,” Akron said. “I often dream of reliving my youth. It was then that I held strong faith in the Orb.”

“You do not believe in the Orb?”

“Please, Shen. Lower your voice.” The master looked about for a moment, and then he said, “Aye, my belief in the Orb has wavered, but I am thankful to have retained belief in the wisdom of the Creator.”

“I understand, Elder. You are like the many. Life has become a scale that weighs faith against doubt. Without the Holy Orb, the scale weighs in favor of doubt, and doubt diminishes the spirit, and marks the beginning of a downward spiral into the netherworld.”

The temple's highest tower moaned as a ringer struck its bronze bell three times, conveying a heavy pitch down the mountain.

“Come,” Akron said. “Let us feast.”

Disciples, monks, priests, elders, and the high priestess gathered in the dining hall and assembled around circular tables no higher than eighteen inches. Along with five elders and their pupils, the high priestess took her place at the lead table centered before the enormous statue of the Creator's first true disciple, Tourname. From the head table, succeeding tables were placed in a delta formation. Shen, at the lead table, looked at the dishes with a slight nod and smile, being discreet with his approval of the food; it looked as good as it smelled. He and the others, and everyone at every table, stood until the high priestess sat on her pillow. With bowed heads, she led everyone in a harmonic chanting of grace. The prayer after a short period ended in silence, as everyone remained still.

“Eat,” said the high priestess, and heads lifted, and there soon after the rattling of utensils and dishes and chattering and laughter filled the dining hall. “Shen,” the high priestess said, “I understand that you have taken Lady Ayame as your mate.”

“Aye,” he said, receiving a dish.

“Why?”

Shen passed the dish to his left after taking food from it. He looked to his master, and readdressing their spiritual leader, he said, “I believe my fate is with Lady Ayame. She believes as I do, that the natural order of life between Nousalavians, Sharizardians, the planet, and the Creator should be restored.”

“You both have undertaken a seemingly daunting if not impossible task in life.”

“Aye, High Priestess, however, if we fail to return the Holy Orb, then the Creator will reveal the vision of peace to another.”

“Do you really believe we can coexist with Sharizardians?” the master to the high priestess' right said. “The deaths of the brothers and sisters who have gone before in search for the Holy Orb are by their hands. They are the darkness as taught to us by the sacred book, Be. I must say you are wise to have Lady Ayame by your side. Perhaps you shall go further, or you both may perish just the same.”

“Aye, I agree,” the student of that master said. “By chance though, if Lady Ayame falls to the Sharizardians, the House of Sarauniya shall sway the Council to sanction war, when in truth, revenge is all they will seek. And so, they will drag us all along into an unjust and untrue conflict. I question the decision to take her as a mate. Do you wish to engender war with the Sharizardians, Shen?”

“She also comes from a strong bloodline of Nousalavian nobility,” another pupil said, “and you—well, your heritage is tainted with Sharizardian blood. Taking her as your mate shall undoubtedly draw suspicion from the House of Sarauniya. I, for one, am very doubtful that they will welcome you.”

“Bloodline is irrelevant,” Shen said. “And why do you question my faculty? Your candor frightens as well as disappoints. We are of the religious sect. The masses depend on our insight and knowledge and our interpretation of the sacred book to bestow the Creator's wisdom upon them because She has blessed us with it, and asks us to do such. Though we have been without Her wisdom, and for a very long time at that,
we
most of all should not have doubt. Otherwise, we are destined for tragedy.”

“I disagree,” another master said. “All has been fine since the House of Sarauniya led the purification of Enteria, by ridding the Sharizardians from this world.”

“In the natural order of life, balance exists between the light and the dark, this the sacred book says,” said Shen. “The Holy Orb ties us to the Creator through which Her wisdom—Her spirit gives us harmony and insight. Without it, darkness will consume light such that we shall lose sight of Her. Without it, light will outshine darkness such that we shall be blinded from Her wisdom. Neither they nor we can see without Her. Though I want for it not to occur, war seems inevitable, but it just may be the only means from which light and dark can truly exist in peace.”

“Lest you forget that it is they who stole the Holy Orb,” the high priestess said.

“Our responsibility—or at least your responsibility—is to lead us to set right the mistakes of yesterday.”

“Shen!” Elder Akron said. “Forgive his insolence, High Priestess and fellow elders. His convictions are strong.”

“No one is to blame, for we have truly been without the leadership of the Creator's wisdom for far too long,” said Shen. “All will be forgiven, however, when the Orb is returned and the Creator's hand has wiped the burden of doubt from our hearts.”

“Shen!”

“Elder Akron, do not shield him. It is his right,” the high priestess said. “He is not the first to question my leadership.” Everyone looked to the grand cleric, and she said, “When shall you leave in search for the Holy Orb, Shen?”

“Tomorrow, when Lady Ayame and I shall ride to Khonshu, to meet the Pris Chroma before it departs for Arcanon. It will travel pass Maraknus.”

BOOK: Skies Over Tomorrow: Constellation
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