Read The Agathon: Book One Online

Authors: Colin Weldon

The Agathon: Book One (16 page)

His earnest point was well made and she agreed with the logic. It was true; there were no secrets between them. Most of the time. Although she had an advantage in that area. She took a seat next to him and put her hands on his.

“There is something happening to me. I can feel myself changing. I know that I’m different, in some ways, to the rest of you, but there’s something else. A growing power that I’m scared of and I know that there is a connection to that horrible substance locked away in the other room. I’m changing, Father. Manifesting things.” She bowed her head.

“I can’t explain it yet; I hope we live through this so that I can show you. I’m sorry that you felt lied to,” she said.

She thrust herself into her father’s arms. His surprised reaction was abated quickly, when she entered his mind and spoke to him in the most personal way she could. Without words.

“Please trust me. I love you.”

“Okay, Dice,” he replied with his thoughts. He embraced her like he hadn’t seen her in a thousand years. It seemed to last forever, when they were interrupted by the ship’s general communications channel.

“Boyett to Captain Barrington. Jycorp shuttlecraft off the port bow.” Carrie pulled back from her father and kissed him on the cheek.

“Barrington here, on my way.” He stood and made his way to the door, then turned to her.

“One other thing,” he said with a wry smile.

“Stay away from that flight jockey. I’ve seen the way you two are. Keep your head in the game. Besides, you can do better.” She smiled, knowing full well he didn’t really mean it.

“I’ll try my very best,” she said.

“Hmm,” he replied and exited the lab. As he left her alone in the lab she was hit with a profound sense that somehow she hadn’t much time left with her father. An immeasurable sense of grief consumed her as she tried to fathom how she could go on with her life without him. She was also struck with the feeling that his demise would ultimately be her fault. As the feeling faded, she tried to take hold of where it had come from but the details were fleeting and the images like a flicker of light in the sand. She told herself it was simply a moment of fear transgressing itself onto an already frightened and confused mind, no matter how real the feeling felt.

10

J
ycorp Orbital Platform

One hour to impact

03:00 Martian Standard

R
yder was holding the restraints so tightly they were cutting into his hand. They sat in a row in the flight chairs in Young’s old office. The sounds of the station’s interior as it shifted its position out of the lunar orbit and into open space reverberated through the room, like a sinking ship that had struck an iceberg. Ellis had given the command to fire thrusters forty minutes earlier, but the station had not gone willingly into the night.

“Moving a station this size is gonna be a bumpy ride, folks. I can’t guarantee she won’t give us problems.” The transport ships had already left orbit and were slowly making their way out to the rendezvous marker just outside Saturn’s moon Titan. The chancellor sat quietly with her eyes closed but Ryder couldn’t get a reading on her; then again he was terrified out of his mind and couldn’t sense anything very much about anything. The vibrations had been steady throughout the manoeuvre. The ion engines were fired in bursts every two minutes to establish safe momentum before the long burn took hold. There had been damage to one of the antenna clusters during the first turn, but it hadn’t caused any breach within the hull. It had simply broken off and floated away into the dark.

“Don’t worry about it, James, she’ll be okay,” the chancellor said above the noise of the creaking metal. She looked remarkably calm. The Village had begun its burn first, as the smaller of the two stations, and had executed it without any problems. Ryder looked out of the view port behind Young’s desk and caught a glimpse of The Agathon as it stood watch. Its FTL ring was extended ninety degrees perpendicular to its hull, indicating its readiness to jump.

“Look at that, Chancellor,” he shouted over the noise. They looked out the viewing port at the stalking ship. Clark smiled.

“If it doesn’t fire, Sienna, it’s game over,” he said sternly. She looked at him and frowned. They glanced back outside the viewing port as the angle shifted. What entered their field of vision silenced them all. An area of space where no stars could be seen. What looked like a
planet
-sized black hole approached. The mass was surrounded by a haze of greenish crystallised cloud formations, which bounced sunlight into dark crevices on the surface of the rock. It was accompanied by thousands of loose threads of rock and dust, giving the monster a crazed and malevolent approach.

“Jesus, the size of it,” said Ryder finally. Clark didn’t answer. The surreal view of the planet they had lived on their whole lives now free floating through space defied conversation. Suddenly the space station grew silent. The vibrations stopped and noise levels returned to normal.

“This is Ellis. Burn is complete. You can walk freely.” His voice came confidently over the comms. They stood from their seats and walked over to the viewing port to see the end of a second world. Small fragments of the incoming debris began to strike the surface of the orbiting moon Demos. The sister moon to Phobos had no human technology on it as it proved to be of little significance to either the colonisation or the signal analysis missions for Jycorp.

“It’s hitting Demos,” said Ryder. “See?” he said, pointing to the folly of small explosive impacts that were visible even at this distance.

“I see, James,” Clark responded.

“Sienna Clark to Ellis,” she said. Ryder didn’t see her hit the comms panel.

“Go ahead, Chancellor,” came his low voice.

“Richard, are you sure this distance will protect us from the blast? From up here it looks like we’re cutting it fine.” She sounded worried.

“Don’t worry, Chancellor, we are travelling at over
fifty
-two thousand kilometres an hour. Doesn’t look like much, but we’re well out of harm’s way for now.”

“Thank you, Richard. Clark out,” she finished. The surface of the moon began to start shooting great plumes of rock and dust into the vacuum, as the impacts of the incoming rock pounded into its surface. Streaks of sunlight lit up various sections of the debris field, as the fragments’ unrelenting attack continued. The comms system chirped.

“Chancellor, this is Ellis. I am patching through Mr Young on board The Agathon.”

“Go ahead,” she replied.

“Sienna?” said Young’s voice. He sounded tired.

“Yes, Jerome, I presume you’re all watching.” There was a pause.

“We are. Both Doctor Tosh and Emerson believe that we need to make the jump as soon as possible, as the instability of a core detonation could disrupt the gravitational forces in this area and make it impossible.” Her heart sank. They would soon be on their own.

“I understand, Jerome. Get your people out of here.” A small meteor shower began to creep across the atmosphere. “Is Captain Barrington with you?”

“I am here, Chancellor,” he replied.

“Captain, you have my best wishes,” she said. “I wish you and your crew good hunting and want you to know that our spirits rest in you.” The meteor shower began to intensify.

“Chancellor, you have my word that we will return for you. Whatever it takes,” he said. Ryder watched as the chancellor’s eyes stared off into the distance.

“We’ll see you soon, Sienna,” came Young’s voice. The comms went dead.

“This is really happening, isn’t it?” said Ryder. He was becoming visibly upset and struggling to keep it to himself. Sienna Clark took his hand and smiled.

The Agathon

The view screens showed every available angle of the menacing chunk of rock now headed for the surface of Mars. Barrington sat in the centre seat and was flanked by Young and Tosh. Boyett was seated in a suspended flight control console near the front centre of the bridge. David Chavel was seated to her right in a fixed silver metallic chair that was attached to the auxiliary navigation station.

“Sixteen minutes to impact, sir,” said Chavel. “Remaining vessels and stations now out of range.”

“Barrington to Emerson,” he said, tapping the comm panel attached to his chair.

“Emerson here.”

“If we’re gonna do this, Mr Emerson, now would be the time.”

“Just running one last check on the plasma regulators, sir. Two minutes. FTL ring is deployed and appears to be responding,” he replied.

“Understood. Keep me informed.” Young had been strangely silent since the last communiqué with the Jycorp Orbital. They had not had much time to talk since he and Tosh came aboard and Barrington was uncomfortable with his presence on the bridge.

“Doctor Tosh, I suggest disengaging your chair from its hover mode when we engage the FTL. We don’t know if this is going to be a smooth ride or not, and I would rather not have you flying straight through the bulkhead and possibly taking my crew members with you.” His remarks directed at
doe
-eyed Tosh were quickly obeyed, as he nodded and engaged the manual transportation struts which secured him firmly to the deck plating.

“Of course, my apologies, Captain,” Tosh said.

“Charly, engage the inertial dampeners,” Barrington said.

“Gentlemen, if you wouldn’t mind taking a seat,” the captain added, turning to Young. The Jycorp CEO took a seat.

“Target coordinates set, sir,” said Boyett, who seemed to be frantically pressing every button in front of her. Both sides of her flight controls held manual handgrips that controlled the port and starboard thrusters. Flying the ship through hyperspace needed very little actual piloting skills, as the vectors were locked into the computer, but what they didn’t know was what would hit them at the exit. She had been preparing for the worst, with weeks in simulated asteroid and projectile evasion.

“Eleven minutes, sir,” she said from the con. Nothing to do but wait for Emerson’s go.

“Patch me in to the feed on Phobos, will you, David? Put it through on screen six.”

“Yes, sir,” came Chavel’s voice. The screen to the far right of the bridge changed its view to the surface of Phobos.

“Fuck, look at that,” said Tosh suddenly. The screen showed the surface of the small moon. Exploding surface impacts erupted from all around.

“Where’s the Monolith?” said Young. The base beside the Monolith was a raging inferno, but the structure itself was nowhere to be seen.

“Impact crater?” suggested Tosh. The view from the imaging system began to shake and distort, as the impacts grew in their intensity.

“Losing the signal, sir,” said Chavel. The screen flickered to black as the monitors around it showed the exterior happenings of the small moon. Or rather what was left of the small moon. It was practically torn in half by the unstoppable force of the bombardment.

“This is the captain,” Barrington announced on the open comm system he had just opened. “All hands general quarters. We are about to make our FTL attempt. You may feel some disorientation during the procedure. If you are experiencing any prolonged effects, please contact Doctor Brubaker. I will contact you all again as soon as we are in hyperspace. Good luck to us all. Barrington out.” The bridge fell silent. The comms chirped.

“Bridge, this is Emerson. Target coordinates received and locked. Firing up FTL ring. Stand by.” A familiar shudder crept through the bridge as
high
-pitched screeches of metal grinding against metal filled their ears.

“Viewer forward,” Barrington said. The screens all flicked forward. “Leave me an image of Mars, Lieutenant, on the monitor five.”

“Sir,” Chavel said in acknowledgement. The forward view showed the curved surface of the outside of the ship. The FLT ring swung past the viewer slowly, in and out of view, as it circled the vessel. It completed a rotation every second but was now beginning to pick up speed. Barrington tapped his private comm channel and hooked in an earpiece.

“Barrington to Carrie Barrington,” he said softly, watching the large ring as it blinked past his view screen. To his right an apocalyptic scene was unfolding as the Earth fragment began making contact with the thin Martian atmosphere.

“Carrie here,” came her voice.

“You strapped in, Dice?”

“Yes, Captain, I’m in my quarters. Everything seems to be shaking.”

“That will pass once we break through. Sit tight and don’t go anywhere,” he said.

“Don’t worry, Father, this will work. See you on the other side.” Barrington smiled.

“Carrie out.”

“Thirty percent,” said Boyett, who was busy checking her flight controls.

“Hull integrity?” said Barrington.

“One hundred percent,” said Boyett. He looked over at Young, whose eyes were fixed on the screen showing Mars. They turned their attention to the changing landscape of their attempted second Earth. The atmosphere was ablaze with fire. Huge fissures began to open as the fragment slammed through the crust, sending violent shockwaves through its dry and desolate landscapes. There was no sign of the colony or the Atmo processors. Barrington couldn’t help but feel a sudden sense of urgency. He focused his attention forward. The FTL ring was now steadily moving past the view screen, making a full rotation roughly six times a second, blurring the white and metallic look of the ring into a fusion of one colour. The star field had begun to fade.

“Bridge, this is Emerson. We are at
fifty
-eight percent. Opening the injectors now. Plasma flow looks good. Contact again at ninety percent.”

“Flight, how we looking?” he said to Boyett.

“Gravitational readings inside the parameter of the ship are normal. Readings from outside the ring are starting to shift.” Barrington looked over at the image of Mars, which had started to warp in the viewer. Chunks of the planet were now spewing out in all directions. There was a sudden burst of energy from somewhere deep within the ship and the sound of the spinning FTL ring shot up in frequency. The forward viewer was now a blur of white. The bridge was a deathly silent place. Only status reports from Boyett and Chavel interrupted the eerie quiet. The view began to change colour. Dark blue waves of distortion began to permeate through the white.

“Ninety percent, sir,” came Emerson’s voice over the comm. “It’s not too late to abort, but once we’re past
ninety
-two percent we are committed.” Barrington looked around at his crew and then to Young, who nodded the go ahead.

“Unlock the injectors to full, Mr Emerson. Let’s do what we came here to do.”

“Yes, sir,” Emerson said. Barrington thought he heard a tinge of excitement in the Irishman’s voice. What happened next happened quickly. The image of the broken Mars flickered off the screen as it went blank. The distortion on the forward viewer seemed to break into a million streaming lines of colours. For an instant Barrington thought he observed the crew on the bridge freezing in place. Somewhere off in the distance came a voice that sounded like Emerson, but was much lower and much slower.

“Ninety
-nine percent,” it seemed to take an age to say. He glanced down at his hands, which seemed to have a silver lining to them. Every detail of the bridge seemed to be heightened. Everything seemed to glow. He felt a sudden surge in pressure, as if he were on an old rollercoaster at the top of a peak and headed down. The feeling took him by surprise and slightly knocked the wind out of him. He tensed up as the feeling subsided. The viewer in front showed a mixture of greys. The stars were now completely gone. There was an explosion of sound within the walls of the ship, like the cracking of a huge whip. Then silence. Normality had returned to the bridge. Boyett and Chavel looked at each other.

“Report,” said Barrington.

“Eh. Standby, sir, just taking readings,” said Boyett.

“Barrington to engine room.”

“Emerson here, we’re still in once piece, sir. We are still verifying readings down here, but gravitational readings suggest we have been successful. Have you seen the images from outside the ship?”

“I want a more detailed report when you have it, Mr Emerson.”

“Eh yes, sir. Give me few minutes. Emerson out.”

“Charly?” Barrington said.

“Velocity is zero, sir. Which is what we expect from being inside a warping singularity, but I would agree that it seems to have worked. This is FTL, sir.” Barrington looked at Tosh, who had a terrified expression on his face.

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