The Agathon: Reign of Arturo (5 page)

“Healthy body, healthy mind, sir,” he said letting go and landing gracefully onto the deck. He was a well-built man with thick black hair and a slightly out of control beard.

“You not get enough exercise drilling asteroids?” said Aron.

“Ah, it’s not the same. Doesn’t hit the deltoids,” he said flexing his arms.

Aron laughed.

“Right,” he said moving past him.

“We got a good haul this time round,” said Oliver.

“We did, my friend. You are the best,” Aron responded, making his way to the airlock and opening the door.

“Where you off to?” he asked, “sneaking out before the real work starts again?”

“I wish,” Aron said, “Gotta see the man upstairs.”

“Jesus, good luck with that. Tell him I was killed in action, will ye?” Oliver shouted as he closed the airlock behind him. Aron gave him a thumbs up through the window before leaving The Unity and making his way into the Earth One docking area. Crews from the other ships were beginning to disembark into the corridors. He gave them a casual salute as he passed them. He made his way through the space station, past the habitat ring and colonists quarters and into one of the main arterial lifts. It was being guarded by two Colonial Guards. He nodded at the hidden faces and smiled.

“Morning gentlemen, the chancellor is expecting me,” he said. They turned their dark faceplates towards him. He had to restrain himself from knocking them out every time he was this close. He had almost succumbed to his hatred for the guard on a number of occasions which would have certainly seen him airlocked. They stepped aside slowly and entered a code into a door panel which released the entrance to the lift. He stepped inside and let out a deep breath steadying his heart rate. The elevator began to rise.

Moments later the doors opened to a long walkway at the end of which stood another four Colonial Guards. He approached them confidently and stood in front of the door. One of the guards whispered something into a comm system on his wrist. Aron took a long slow breath and waited.

The doors to the chancellor’s office opened slowly and he walked inside. The chancellor sat at his desk facing the rear of the office. The
large window looked out at the sprawling connected space stations. Aron stepped inside and walked to the middle of the room. He stood in silence.

“Good morning, Chancellor,” he said after a minute or so thinking that the old man had fallen asleep or something. The chair behind the desk swivelled and Arturo turned to face him. He gave him a wry grin. A figure moved behind him making him turn. Hector Stanley emerged from a shadow in the corner and stood behind him blocking the door. He nodded at the large man and frowned at him. He noticed a considerable change in his heartbeat and cleared his throat.

“Mr Elstone, I am delighted to see you,” said Arturo rising from his chair and moving around his desk.

“What can I do for you, Chancellor?” said Aron trying to get to the point quickly so that he could get out of there. He reckoned he could have a fighting chance against Stanley on a good day, but he was feeling fatigued after his journey.

“Straight to it, ay, Aron? I like that about you,” Arturo replied smiling. Aron didn’t respond. Arturo continued to approach him.

“How did the mining mission go?” Arturo asked.

“Very well, sir. We have just over twelve cubic meters of Helium 3 in our tanks. My crew is unloading it now,” he said.

“Excellent,” Arturo said placing a hand on Aron’s shoulder. “Your service to this colony has been outstanding,” he said.

“Thank you, sir,” Aron said blandly. Arturo looked at him for a moment and he suddenly felt uncomfortable. Like he was being hunted.

“Aron, we need to talk,” Arturo finally said dropping his smile.

“Sir?” Aron replied.

“A very exciting thing happened late last night. A very exciting thing indeed,” he said moving away from him and back towards the window overlooking the space stations. Aron watched The Kandinsky as it drifted past the window. How the hell was he going to tackle that ship?

“We received a signal. A very old signal,” Arturo said still facing away from him. “It appears to be the locator beacon from The Agathon,” he said.

Aron’s mouth opened.

“What?” he said.

Arturo turned and looked at him with a deathly seriousness.

“The Agathon, Aron. We confirmed it with the old archived data and it is definitely the same signal,” Arturo said.

“My God,” Aron said. The Agathon was a myth at this stage. He had never believed that the ship had survived the FTL test all those years ago and that it had simply been a story that parents had told their children to help them sleep at night.

“Indeed,” Arturo said.

“Has there been any communication?” he asked.

“Ah,” Arturo said, “Therein lies the rub. Communication is not possible at this distance. It may simply be drifting through interstellar space and it is so far away that we are just receiving their beacon now after all these years. We just don’t know,” he said.

“They couldn’t still be alive, could they?” Aron asked.

Arturo shrugged his shoulders.

“Who knows,” he said.

“Incredible,” Aron said genuinely blown away by the discovery.

“There may, however, be a way of finding out,” Arturo said.

Aron looked at the chancellor and had a feeling he wasn’t going to like this.

“Your ship is the only one currently outfitted with a sub light propulsion system. I want you to take a small team and begin placing a series of relay buoys along a route that Vishal provided me with this morning, so that we can boost our communications relay. The mission could take several weeks, but if successful, we could finally be able to establish whether or not there is anyone alive on board that ship. But most of all, it will let them know that we are still alive. And we know what that means now, don’t we?” he said grinning.

“Their Faster than Light drive actually works,” said Aron. He was suddenly struck with a dread that he had not felt before. If this lunatic finally got his hands on a functional FTL drive, then God knows what would happen to the rest of thecolony. He felt a sense of urgency.

“Exactly,” said Arturo, “Your mission is to deploy the relay and report back to me immediately. Select whomever you feel will handle the voyage best. I leave complete discretion to you. I have one proviso,” he finished. Aron didn’t like the sound of that.

“I want you to take Mr Stanley with you,” he said.

Fuck
, Aron thought.

“Sir?” he asked turning to the large man who glared at him.

“Is that a problem?” Arturo asked staring at him.

“No, sir, of course not,” Aron said trying to be careful not to sound insubordinate.

“He could be a valuable asset should you run into difficulty,” Arturo said.

Aron knew exactly why he was being sent. He would be ordered to assassinate him at a moment’s notice if things didn’t go Arturo’s way.

“Yes, sir, of course that would be greatly appreciated,” he responded through gritted teeth.

“Excellent,” Arturo said, “The mission details will be ready for your review by this evening. Please liaise with Vishal on the specifics. I wish you the very best of luck,” Arturo said, taking his seat and turning it away from Aron indicating that it was time to leave.

“Yes, sir, thank you for your time,” he said turning and heading to the door. There was a moment’s hesitation from Stanley as he glared at him before stepping aside.

That’s right, you big fuck, your time will come
, thought Aron as he moved past him and into the hallway. He moved down the corridor and into the lift. The doors hissed closed and he exhaled heavily placing a hand on the lift wall.

“The Agathon!” he said out loud, “We’ve got you now, you old bastard,” he finished with a smile he couldn’t contain.

4

The Agathon

“W
hat are you?” Carrie asked Tyrell from behind the glass wall in The Agathon’s brig. He lay on the single bed at the rear of the brightly lit room and stared up at the ceiling.

“Doctor Tyrell, I asked you a question. I want to know what you are… where you came from and why that pool of black liquid was the only living thing on the surface of Mars before it was destroyed?”

She had come straight from the conference to the brig despite her father’s request that she return to her quarters. There was dried blood still scattered on her torn jumpsuit from her battle with the Targlagdu that had nearly killed her. He turned his head to her and looked at her with completely black eyes. He sat up and stood. He gave her a smile and walked over to the glass wall.

“You look tired, Carrie,” he finally said calmly, “You should listen to your father and get some rest. You are going to need it where we’re going.”

“What the hell does that mean?” she said, “Also why did you allow yourself to be put in here, you could have easily resisted and nobody could have done a thing?”

“There is significant tension amongst the crew, Carrie. A confrontation at this time would not be useful for anyone. It is important that nerves calm on board this vessel,” he said.

She had to admit it made sense. God knows what would have happened if they had started firing pulse rifles at the creature.

“What do I even call you?” she asked, “Do you have a name?”

“A name?” he said turning his head.

“Yes, a name. Doctor Tyrell is the name of the man’s body you inhabit” she said.

“Ah yes,” he smiled, “What I am would be unpronounceable by your species. Besides, I quite like Tyrell, don’t you?”

“Please answer my questions, Doctor,” she said.

She looked into his black eyes and opened up her mind to his trying to pierce the barrier that he had firmly in place. She couldn’t get in. She had felt the connection of whatever was standing in front of her long before it had taken control of Tyrell. She could hear it calling to her while it was still a pool of black organic liquid in a dark cave on the Martian surface.

“We need to get off this ship,” he said stepping closer to the glass. Carrie took a step back.

“What? Why?” she asked, “What are you?”

“It is not safe for you here,” he said.

“I am not going anywhere with you until you answer my questions,” she said.

Tyrell stared at her and she stood silently waiting.

“I am part of that which is left. By your understanding of time the others left the world you call Mars over ten millions years ago to fight the great war. They left us to guard it promising they’d return. They did not. We must find the others. You are the key,” he said.

“You’re not making any sense, Doctor. Who is we?” she asked, “You are an individual.”

Tyrell frowned.

“Carrie, we have to leave this ship. You have to come with me to the others. There you will find the answers,” he said.

Carrie suddenly felt a sense of danger coming from the man standing in front of her. She was about to press him when the door to the brig opened and her father walked in. He looked angry. He stopped and looked at her.

“Step away from the glass, Doctor Tyrell, or whatever the hell you are,” he said forcefully.

“Father, wait, I need to speak to him,” she said raising her hand to him. He walked over to her and pressed a control pad next to the wall. The glass wall on the brig suddenly turned to a frosted grey obscuring Tyrell, so that only a dark shadow could be seen. He stood in front of Tyrell’s unmoving silhouette and looked coldly at Carrie. It was the same look he used to give her when she was about to be scolded as a little girl. She stepped away from the glass. Her father looked at her and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Please, Carrie,” he said, “I need to speak to him.”

She reluctantly nodded looking into the eye he had left. It looked weary. The black temporary patch that covered the empty socket looked worn.

“Yes, father,” she said moving past him towards the door. She looked back at him as he touched the control panel turning the frosted glass clear again. Tyrell was still standing there. He looked at her and nodded.

See you soon
, he told her in her mind.

John Barrington looked at Tyrell as the doors to the brig hissed shut behind Carrie. He turned and grabbed a chair that was behind him and slowly placed it in front of the glass. He sat slowly and stretched out his back. He crossed his legs and took a deep breath pulling his eye patch up momentarily and attending to an itch that had taken up residence just under his empty eye socket.

“Busy day,” he said to Tyrell.

“Indeed,” Tyrell responded moving away from the glass and taking a seat on the small single bed behind him.

“Okay, let’s have it,” Barrington said.

“Captain?” Tyrell responded.

“Come on, Tyrell, I don’t have all day. Why did you save my life? And Carrie for that matter?” he paused, “What are you, where is Tyrell, what the hell was that planet machine thing and what the fuck is going on?”

Tyrell smiled.

“I can see why she admires you so much,” Tyrell said.

Barrington paused waiting for a response.

“The ‘machine thing’ as you put it, is called the Targlagdu. It is the remnant of a very old civilisation long gone. It travels what you perceive as the known galaxy, harvesting life forms and replicating them for energy. It is unfortunate that your species came into contact with it so early in your evolution. You were not prepared for it,” he said.