The days following the death of Daressencia Laportine had proven to be some of the most difficult days the Galactic Alliance had ever faced. Ambassador Craethon’s damaged vessel was found by the Kellurian military and word spread with lightspeed that the Galactic Alliance was responsible for his death and those of his entourage. The Kellurian Empire immediately recalled all its diplomats from Alliance planets and expelled all Alliance personnel from its territories and vessels. There were countless impassioned speeches in the Kellurian Governing Council condemning the Alliance in the strongest possible terms and demanding in the most strident tones revenge for the murders of the ambassador and his staff. All cultural and commercial contacts between the Kellurians and the Alliance were severed. Scientific and medical joint efforts, some of which had been going on for years and were bearing extremely fruitful results, were summarily halted.
The border area in space between the two galactic superpowers immediately became a militarized zone, with the tremendous firepower of both sides squaring off against each other, just a hair-trigger away from Armageddon. The tension between them escalated to unheard-of levels and both sides monitored the movements of the other in the most miniscule detail. Both sides knew that one single mistake, even the most innocent, unintentional slip-up, could instantly precipitate a cascade of violence and death which would be extremely difficult to contain, once unleashed. The stress of maintaining such an extreme level of military readiness was exacting a grave price on everyone, as everything took back seat to keeping the war machines running. Both sides knew this and wanted to avoid it at all costs, but both kept their fingers on the triggers, unwilling to blink, and unable to turn away.
The Archangel had been on high alert almost from the day the ambassador’s body was found, and was assigned to patrol a large sector of the Alliance-Kellurian border. It was their job to track and observe every movement of enemy forces in a sixteen cubic light-year swath of space. The crew was starting to suffer fatigue, as the round-the-clock shifts put everyone on edge. Endless streams of status meetings were called, some just hours after the previous one, to go over enemy movements and intelligence data, and conferring with the Galactic Alliance headquarters. As this intense military standoff consumed everything – time, resources, people – there was no time to spend investigating the occurrence on Dreen 7 or the likely involvement of the Cusp Foundation, which was free to do anything they wanted, without fear of being observed or challenged. Their plan to use fear and paranoia to keep the two superpowers paralyzed and unable to interfere was working perfectly.
Captain Twillig sat wearily down at the head of the conference table in the status room, awaiting the arrival of his senior staff for another meeting. Which meeting it was that day, he had no idea; the meetings were starting to blur into one another. He took a look at his electronic notepad and noticed at least fourteen new meeting and update requests from other starship captains, the Alliance headquarters and a number of star bases across the quadrant. He knew they all had to be answered, and he also knew that before he got through half of them, there would be ten new requests waiting for him. He had no idea when he was ever going to get a good night’s sleep again.
Lieutenant Richardson of Special Operations came in, sat down in a chair next to the Captain, and let out a long, audible breath. “Things are really going to hell, Captain,” he said in dismay. “Take a look at these latest Kellurian troop movements.” He put a wireless computer monitor down on the table between them and hit a control button on the top. A map of the immediate area of space came on and several large red arrows demarked an amassing of Kellurian military transports and battle cruisers, moving in the direction of the Archangel.
“Don’t tell me that,” the captain said, discouraged. “The ninth division of the Alliance star forces is two days away from arriving here, too. In a very short time there are going to be two unbelievably large military forces, barely separated by narrow stretch of vacuum, staring each other directly in the eye and waiting for the other one to blink. If anything is going to happen anywhere in the quadrant which will quickly escalate into the biggest war we’ve seen in three centuries, it’s going to be right here,” he said, tapping the Archangel’s position on the monitor.
“And here we are, with a ringside seat,” Brisbane said ironically. “Do you think when everybody starts shooting they’re going to be able to find any remnants of us other than a cloud of debris?”
“For the first time in my career,” Captain Twillig said sadly, “I honestly have no idea what is going to happen to my ship. I don’t know if we are going to survive this, and even if we do, will there be anything left for us to go back to? The future has never seemed so uncertain, nor so bleak.”
Brisbane shifted uncomfortably in his seat; he knew what the captain was saying was true. “What’s worse, all this might be moot in a couple of weeks if the Cuspies fire their super weapon and wipe everything out. We don’t even know if this weapon really exists or how close they are to firing it. We know nothing about what they are doing or what they may soon be doing, and with the war to end all wars bubbling just below the surface, we can’t even make an attempt to check up on them.”
The Captain turned toward his officer and spoke quietly but desperately. “We can’t drop the ball on this, Brisbane. Despite all the military build-up and everything going on out there, we can’t let this slip through the cracks. I want you to keep trying to find out what the Cuspies are up to. I’m sure you realize how incredibly careful you have to be in order to not set the Kellurians off, but it’s absolutely critical you try to find out as much as you can. Because if my feeling about this situation turns out to be true, the potential war with the Kellurians will seem like a day of shore leave compared to what the Cuspies are up to.”
The captain’s words echoed weakly in the empty conference room. “I understand, sir,” Brisbane said. “I hear you.”
The two officers sat in stony silence for a couple of minutes until the other meeting participants joined them. The meeting started immediately thereafter and numerous department heads gave their new information and assessments of the present situation. As the speakers went on and on, Brisbane found his attention wavering from the military updates to the events of four days ago and the passing of Daressencia Laportine. He was still not able to fully comprehend how completely his world changed when that aged, frail woman was brought onboard the starship and demanded to speak to him. Her transformation from the beautiful, if evil nemesis of twenty-four years ago to the nearly-senile, desiccated shell of a woman coming to the end of her days was extremely jarring and almost impossible for him to comprehend. That, coupled with the fact that their son, whom he had never even seen, had become an extremely grave threat to the quadrant and an enemy the likes of which hasn’t been seen for nearly a millennium, left Brisbane with a mix of emotions that made it very difficult for him to function at his normal efficiency.
The meeting ended on its typical grim note, with very little to be happy or hopeful about. The participants filed out of the room not saying much to each other. Brisbane stayed behind, still seated in his chair, lost in thought. Chief Engineer Tony Moreno and an assistant stayed behind, taking care of some last-minute technical discussions.
Tony looked out the corner of his eye and observed Brisbane still in his chair. “You didn’t say much at the meeting, buddy,” Tony said gently to his friend. “Have a lot on your mind?”
“Everybody has a lot on their minds, Tony” Brisbane responded slowly. “It’s hard to get enthused by anything when you see all these storm clouds gathering from every direction, and not even a ray of sunlight to grab hold of.”
“I think everybody feels that way,” Tony said resignedly. “What’s the point of getting excited about anything when it could all be gone in a couple of minutes?”
“You don’t know how right you are,” Brisbane thought silently to himself. The rumor of the Cuspie super weapon had been kept under the tightest secrecy, since knowledge of this looming apocalypse was the last thing in the universe the crew of this starship needed to worry about.
Tony turned toward his assistant as she asked him to review some figures and data. Brisbane slumped in his chair and reached inside one of the pockets of his uniform. He pulled out the necklace Daressencia Laportine gave him moments before she died and absent-mindedly rubbed it between his fingers. The necklace was made up of a thin chain, probably made of platinum, and a large green emerald-like stone in a delicate, detailed gold setting. This was his last link to the woman who bore his son, and even though the circumstances of his conception were singularly repellant and off-putting, Brisbane someone could not deny at least a rudimentary emotional connection to this woman who gave birth to a young man somewhere in the universe who held half of his DNA in his body. How things got to this particular impasse, and where things were going from this point, were only two of the mysteries and enigmas that swirled around him, with no suitable solutions anywhere in sight.
Tony noticed Brisbane idly rolling the necklace between his fingers. “What do you have there, Brisbane? That looks interesting.”
Mildly startled out of the dark depths of his thoughts, Brisbane said, “Oh, this? It’s just a necklace I was given by someone I used to know, right before she passed away.”
“Can I take a closer look at it?” Tony asked. “Sure,” Brisbane said as he passed the necklace over to him. Tony and his assistant Lieutenant Miriam Becker eagerly looked at it.
“What do you make of this, Miriam?” he asked his assistant, showing her the neck piece.
“That is amazing,” Lieutenant Becker said, eagerly looking at the jewelry. “It looks very much like an artifact from one of the ancient civilizations in the Norma-Crux subgalactic region. It’s very typical for them to have a green stone surrounded by delicate gold filigree, symbolizing the eternal regeneration of life. Do you mind if I take a closer look at it?” she asked.
“Sure, go right ahead,” Brisbane said. Tony handed the necklace of to her and she leaned close to it, taking a very detailed look at the stone.
“Amazing, beautiful workmanship,” Miriam said in awe. “The gold setting is exquisite.” She looked a little closer at the edge of the stone. “What does the inscription say?”
Brisbane looked blankly at her. “What inscription?” he asked. “I don’t know anything about an inscription.”
“A common feature of the jewelry of the Norma-Crux region is that there is always something inscribed on the outer edge of the stone. Thousands of years ago when the Beta Crucis planets were occupied by the Rigellians, they used inscriptions on their jewelry to smuggle vital information to and from their underground resistance leaders, right under the Rigellians’ noses. Eventually the liberation of several planetary systems was directly due to this subterfuge, and as a tribute to their ancestors, the custom of inscribing their jewelry continues to this day.”
“And you say there is some sort of inscription on that stone?” Tony asked.
“There certainly is,” Miriam responded. “It’s far too small for me to read, but there is definitely something written on the outside edge. And curiously, the inscription does not look like it has the signs of being timeworn or ancient,” she said. “It looks surprisingly fresh, like the inscription may be of recent origin.” She looked up and handed the necklace back to a surprised Brisbane. “It would be interesting to find out what the inscription says.”
Brisbane put the necklace back into his uniform pocket. “Indeed it would,” he said, thoughtfully. “Indeed it would.”
Several hours later Captain Twillig would receive yet another urgent request for a meeting, this time from his head of Special Operations. Brisbane caught up with the captain as he was heading to an Alliance briefing. “What do you have, Brisbane?” the captain asked, obviously in very much of a hurry but still willing to listen to what his officer had to say.
“Captain,” Brisbane said almost breathlessly, “I think I may have a lead on information relating to the Cuspie situation. Right before she died, Daressencia gave me a necklace she had hanging around her neck. On the stone there was an inscription. I had the inscription magnified and analyzed and it turned out to be some galactic spatial coordinates. I think there’s a good chance that those coordinates lead to the secret star base Daressencia had for many years, which eluded detection from the Alliance or any other authorities. This may contain a lot of information about her ... I mean our son’s involvement with the Cuspies and may have important info about their super weapon and their plans to use it.”
“That’s very interesting, Brisbane,” the captain replied, “but all I’m hearing from you is “may” this and “may” that. Do you have any confirmation at all about this information, or could this be just wishful thinking? I’m sorry to have to question you on this, but you understand that any exploratory mission to this so-called ‘secret star base’ will be noticed by all those foaming-at-the-mouth Kellurians out there and may be just the trigger they need to start something extremely ugly.” The captain’s communicator started beeping for him but he ignored it.
Brisbane thought for a second as they hurried around a corner down a long corridor crowded with people. “No sir, I have no direct confirmation about the existence of this information, and it may turn out to be nothing at all. I understand your deep concern about an exploratory mission – I really do - and I certainly would not want to be the catalyst that sets events into motion that no one will be able to control. But I have a strong feeling about this. Daressencia was dying when she shoved this necklace into my hand, and I don’t think she would have used her last seconds of life and last ounce of strength to do that unless it was gravely important.” Brisbane looked at the captain as if he were pleading for his very life. “I think we really need to check this out, sir,” he said. “I feel it’s really important.”
The captain stopped and appeared to look off into the distance. “Lord knows we don’t really have anything else to go on regarding the Cuspies,” he said a bit glumly. He thought for another couple of seconds. Turning to Brisbane he said in the utmost seriousness. “Go see what you can find, Brisbane. Is this star base far from here?”
“No sir, not at all, it appears to be a tenth of a light year away, in the 57 Triangulum system, on an uncharted moonlet around the sixth planet. I could be there in about six hours in the Frontiere.”
“No, don’t take the Frontiere,” the captain cautioned. “The Kellurians would see that immediately and lose their collective minds. They get extremely nervous and unhappy when they see the Frontiere doing anything, because they know that ship can beat anything they can come up with.”
“Understood, sir,” Brisbane said, getting a little excited. “I can take the shuttle Dreamcatcher. It’s compspace-capable and can go almost as fast as the Frontiere.”
“Don’t drop into compspace until you’re well away from us and close to the Alliance fleet behind us,” the captain ordered. “We don’t want all those trigger-happy Kellurians to get alarmed that something major is going on.” He looked at Brisbane and put his hand on his shoulder. “Do what you need to do, Brisbane. Find out whatever you can. But above all, be careful.”
“Thank you, sir,” Brisbane said with much gratitude. “Thank you for trusting me, and letting me follow my instincts.”
“They’ve never let us down yet,” the captain said. “Let’s try to keep it that way.”
A short time later a small, faster-than-light shuttlecraft exited the rear hatchway of the Archangel and headed directly away from the Kellurians amassed on the other side of the border. The shuttle left under gravity screens, so it was invisible to sensors of any kind, and it was uncertain whether the Kellurians noticed anything at all but since the vessel was heading in the opposite direction from them, there was precious little they could do. Not daring to cut in the compspace engines just yet, Brisbane pushed the transionic engines to their maximum and pulled away with great speed. Within a short time the shuttle neared the massive fleet of Alliance warships and battle cruisers which were heading to the vicinity of the Archangel, to raise the ante of the war effort by matching the Kellurian buildup on the other side. As soon as the shuttle was identified to the other Alliance vessels by the auto-transponders, Brisbane cut in the faster-than-light engines and disappeared in a brilliant flash of white light as the ship entered compressed space.
Some hours later the Dreamcatcher exited compressed space near the 57 Triangulum system, an unremarkable and almost-forgotten collection of planets, asteroids and comets surrounding a small, nondescript orange dwarf star. The central star was too small and weak to provide a lot of heat and light, and only the closest three out of thirteen planets were even remotely capable of sustaining some kind of indigenous life. Brisbane was heading to the sixth planet; a frigid, airless, utterly barren ball of rock, dust and dirt, and its collection of twenty-three moons, one of which might possible contain a star base once occupied by Daressencia Laportine.
Brisbane reached the sixth planet and the tactical computers began mapping the moons and their locations. He looked at the computer monitor with a furrowed brow. How on earth was he supposed to know which of these moons he was looking for? As the orbital information for each moon was plotted and displayed, he noticed one of the moons was a retrograde, that is, it rotated around the planet in the opposite direction from the other moons. If there was one moon that Daressencia would have been automatically attracted to, it would be this one, going in the opposite direction from all the others as if in stubborn, defiant independence.
Brisbane piloted the shuttle towards the retrograde moon, and in minutes he entered a low, shallow orbit around it. About a thousand kilometers in diameter, it had a substantial gravitational field, quite a bit stronger than expected. He surmised that was due to the high amount of dense iron and nickel which made up most of the mass of this moon. This unusually heavy moon would provide a natural gravity which would almost simulate that of a small planet, which would be conducive to long-term habitation of a star base on its crated, ancient surface. He started making fast, low passes above its dark gray surface, running the sensors at full power, trying to scan as much of the surface as he could with each pass, knowing that he did not have a
lot of time to come up with some kind of fruitful result.
Which pass it was that he noticed the tiny collection of domes on the wide, flat floor of an enormous crated he did not know, he had given up counting the orbits he made as he concentrated on monitoring the sensor scans. In fact he did not notice the domes themselves, since they were of the same dark gray metallic material the majority of the moon’s crust seemed to be, but instead noticed their shadows stretching across the smooth crater floor, looking almost like an extended, distorted cluster of grapes. Immediately swinging the shuttle around, he plunged downward to the surface for a closer look. Sure enough, as he drew near the domes they began to differentiate themselves from the pitted, boulder-strewn crater floor and almost magically raise themselves up in sharp, three-dimensional relief. He did a low, slow circle around the domes and ran several intense scans of them – he counted approximately a dozen domes interconnected with passageways and clustered around a trio of towers, with telescopic and communication equipment on top of them. The sensors revealed no humanoid life on board, but a life support system which was providing a minimal amount of air and heat, possibly in anticipation of the return of the original inhabitants some day. There was an internal power generation system running on low power. He noticed there was a standard docking hatch on the side of one of the domes and pulled lower to take a closer look at that. His sensors could not tell him if there were any booby traps or dangers hidden in any of the domes or passageways, but he did take a little comfort at not seeing any of the flattened crescent moons on any of the structures, the symbol of the hated Cusp Foundation.
Eventually Brisbane set the shuttlecraft down right next to the docking port, the maneuvering rockets kicking up a small cloud of dust which in the low gravity settled back down on the moon’s surface in dreamy slow motion. He extended the passenger tunnel from the shuttle to the port, and the protocols were quickly established and verified. The atmospheres were equalized and Brisbane found himself standing at the shuttle’s exit door, leading directly into a star base which he knew absolutely nothing about, and nothing about any dangers that may be waiting for him inside.
He pushed the doorway button and the metal door slid opened, with a slight hiss as the air pressure equalized. A slight musty odor greeted him, as he peered out into the dark passageway in front of him. As he stepped inside some lights in the ceiling above automatically came on as they sensed his presence, startling him. Looking around the dome as he slowly walked toward the other passageway leading to the main structure, he noticed the inside was austere, yet clean and tidy. There was a lot of vivid blue lighting and black floors and walls, Daressencia’s favorite colors. He began to feel her presence more and more as he headed down the tunnel toward the main group of buildings, and he also felt the presence of another being, unknown and strangely familiar to him at the same time.
Seconds later he got to the entranceway to the main buildings and the door noiselessly slid open in front of him. It took a couple of seconds for his eyes to get used to the lighting as it flickered on, but he found himself in a large room with computer equipment everywhere around him. On one side of the room was a long, wide table with a chair on one end of it, looking almost like a conference room but for only one person – there were no chairs at the table for others to sit around. Around the chair were workstations and computer monitors.
Brisbane walked around to the chair at the end of the table and noticed the command and control functions built into the arms of the chair. This would be where Daressencia sat planning out her actions and activities that nearly brought ruin to the Galactic Alliances, when she was in control of the TMA technology which proved nearly unbeatable. On the table he saw something which nearly caused his heart to stop. Amid the monitors, electronic tablets, and computer keypads there was something which was so incongruous, yet so normal, that Brisbane’s hand visibly trembled as he slowly reached for it. He could barely breathe as he picked up a small picture in a frame. Slowly drawing it closer to his eyes, what he saw affected him more deeply and profoundly than anything he had seen in his travels through space in his entire, nearly four-decade career in the Galactic Alliance. The picture was of a smiling, happy Daressencia with her arms around a small male child, possibly six or seven years old, with dark hair and a big, wide smile much like his mother’s. Brisbane looked closely at the image of this child and felt himself crumble inside. Staring at this child, he saw a young Brisbane Richardson staring back at him. The eyes, the smile, the face – it could have been a picture of him when he was that age. Realizing he was seeing a picture of his son for the very first time, he could not tear his eyes away from it. His mind was flooded with many powerful thoughts and emotions. What might have been, had he been able to see his child? Would the galactic quadrant not be teetering on the edge of complete, total disaster if he had just had the opportunity to be a father to this child? Above all, what would he say to this child and what would the child say to him, had he been allowed to hold his son close, and be a part of his life?
Lost in the flood of emotions, the blood in Brisbane’s veins instantly turned to ice when a voice behind him said, “Hello, Lieutenant Richardson.” For a little while, he stood there and did not move a muscle even a little bit. Slowly, very slowly he moved his hand in exquisitely small movements toward the weapon he had in his side holster. The voice behind him did not say anything else. With his hand touching the top of his Plexor weapon, Brisbane started to turn around very slowly to face whoever or whatever it was behind him.
The sweat was starting to pour down Brisbane’s face as he continued to turn around. Out of the corner of his eye he began to see a spindly, silvery mechanical arm. As he continued his turn he began to see a squat, cylindrical robot body, with a front panel in front containing a bank of blinking, flashing lights, and a large plexiglass half-dome on top which had a bright blue streak of light across it, the video sensors that passed as eyes. Finally turning the whole way around, he was amazed and astonished to see a small robot in front of him, just standing there waiting for him to say something.
Brisbane did not have the faintest idea what he should say to this little robot. It looked like it was very old and just thrown together from a bunch of spare parts someone had laying around. But, something inside Brisbane told him he had seen this particular robot somewhere before, but right now his mind was frozen, trying to figure out what was going on and what he should do.
“Do you remember me, Lieutenant Richardson?” the robot asked innocently, almost cheerfully. There was something about the voice that made Brisbane relax a little bit. He thought he had heard this voice somewhere before, a very long time ago, but it was different now. More self-assured, almost confident, somehow different. He kept his hand on his sidearm, ready to pull it out and fire it at the slightest sign of danger.
“How do you know my name?” Brisbane asked the robot in a halting, nervous voice. Without missing a beat, the robot responded. “We met a very long time ago, on an ice planet. You are Brisbane Richardson, and I am Ramses!”
Brisbane let out a small gasp when he heard the name. His hand dropped away from his Plexor weapon. He leaned in closer to take a wide-eyed look at the robot and his dark plexiglass dome on top. Finally, the memories began to come back to him. “Ramses!” he said in awe-struck amazement. “Could it really be you?”
The robot thought about that for a half-second while the CPU lights flickered rapidly on its front panel. “I am the only Ramses I know of,” he said innocently. “I think it really is me!”
Brisbane knelt down in front of the little robot and noted how the seemingly haphazard collection of computers, sensors and servo-units looked slightly clumsy but decidedly elegant at the same time. “It has been a very long time since we last spoke to each other,” he said, “on Augustus Chaplin’s research center on the frozen planet Saiph.”
“Exactly twenty-five years, five months and fourteen days, in Terran time-frame,” said the little robot cheerfully. “It seems like only yesterday!” it threw in nonchalantly.
Brisbane was running his fingers lightly over the upper half dome of the robot when he stopped and looked at its video sensors. “Ramses,” he said with a little surprise, “someone has programmed you for a sense of humor!”
“Brisbane programmed me for humor,” Ramses said proudly.
“I don’t remember programming you for humor, Ramses,” Brisbane said.
“You didn’t program me,” the robot said breezily, “your son did.”
The mention of his son made Brisbane freeze and lean back slowly on his haunches. “Let’s take a step back, Ramses,” he said cautiously. “Tell me how it happened that you got from Chaplin’s research center to Daressencia’s star base.”
“I shall be glad to,” the robot said. “After you took your leave of the research center on Saiph, I continued with my work – downloading, decrypting and analyzing the technology information contained in The Creator’s hologram of the Forever Stone. A number of months passed without incident, but then Mistress Daressa returned with a number of others, which I believe you referred to as ‘Kellurians’. They ransacked the research center looking for more technology, and ended up taking some partial memory cores which stored a great deal of information. As they were leaving, the Mistress turned to look at me and began talking to one of the Kellurians, who had made up their mind to destroy me because they felt I was getting in their way and being a nuisance. He even had his weapon drawn upon me and was ready to fire, but she came over and ordered him to desist. She ordered that I be taken away from the research center and taken onto their ship. She said she was going to have a child soon and I would make a good “pet” for him. I did not want to go because my primary mission was to continue the work of The Creator and unlock the secrets of the Forever Stone, but they did something to me and the next time my computers booted up, I was on this star base where we are now.”
“So you were brought here to be a companion for her child,” Brisbane said. “Please continue.”
“After her child came to be,” the robot said, “he and I did become friends. I went everywhere he did and was by his side constantly. He was always asking questions and we explored everything and learned a great deal. I believe he said we were ‘having fun’. He was the one who programmed me for humor; he taught me a great deal when it came to telling jokes and making fun of people. He programmed me to insult the Kellurians and they got pretty upset with me. In fact, after a while they all went away and I never saw any of them here again, so that was a very good thing!”
Brisbane couldn’t help but smile at that, he was amazed that his son sounded so much like him. “Tell me more about Brisbane,” he said. “I want to know more about the child.”
“Brisbane was very intelligent and learned things very quickly,” the robot said. “His mother, Mistress Daressa, would occasionally get a little frustrated and exasperated with him, since he would seem to get smarter and more self-aware with each passing day. Mistress took him many different places, to visit many planets and meet many people. He always insisted that I come with them and I got to experience many of the same things he did. As he would always say, we had a great deal of fun!” The robot stopped for a couple of seconds as his CPU lights in front flashed furiously. “He would tell me that he had just about everything a human could want to have, except one thing.”
“What was that, Ramses?” Brisbane asked, still trying to absorb all that was being related to him.
“He said that he always wanted to meet his father,” the robot said in complete innocence.
That statement hit Brisbane like a stun weapon to the head. “He – he wanted to meet his father?” Brisbane stammered.
“Yes he did,” the robot answered. “He said he wanted to meet his father. He said he loved more than anything looking at the video records of his father.”
“What video records?” Brisbane asked in astonishment. “You mean he got to see images of his father.”
“Yes, certainly,” the robot said. “I showed him the video records of the time we spent together on Saiph. I recorded everything we said and did. He made me show him the records over and over again, and in very little time he memorized everything that was said, so he could pretend he was his father, and repeat everything that was said on the video logs.”
Brisbane had to finally sit down on the floor as the meaning of the robot’s story sunk in on him. “So the way he got to know his father was to watch videotapes of him over and over,” he said in a mixture of surprise and sadness.
“256 times,” the robot said. Brisbane looked at it in confusion. “What do you mean?” he asked?
“He watched the videotapes of his father and me a total of 256 times,” Ramses said. There was another couple of seconds as the robot’s internal computers worked at a frantic pace. “He always told me that if I ever came in contact with his father again, I was to give him a message. So, I have a message for you from Brisbane.”
Brisbane sat in shocked silence, staring at the robot. He did not know what to say. Again a couple of seconds of deafening silence were broken by the voice of the little robot.
“He wanted me to tell you he loved you,” the robot said, simply and plainly.
Brisbane just turned his head to the side. He felt a little bit of his heart break. But he had precious little time to dwell on this important information. The threat of the Cusp Foundation and their super weapon would wait for nothing or no one.
“Ramses, I want you to tell me what you tell me what you know about the Cusp Foundation in connection with my son,” he said, his voice taking on an edge of grimness.
“Approximately three Terran years ago, Mistress Daressa became highly agitated when her son started to come under the influence of the Cusp Foundation. He initially met them when he and I were on a research expedition in the Beta Carinae system. The Cusp Foundation personnel almost immediately isolated him from me, and spent many days talking to him and converting him to their way of thinking. The next time I saw him, a month and a half later, he was wearing one of their uniforms and was speaking in terms I had never heard before and which I could not understand. When we returned to this star base with the Cusp people with us, Mistress Daressa became extremely angry and ordered all of them to leave. Her son told her that they would not leave because he had some very important work to do for them, if they were going to see the New Dawn.”
“The New Dawn,” Brisbane said in shock. “You have heard about the New Dawn.”
“Yes I have,” the robot replied. “Brisbane told his mother that they had discovered some important technology contained in the Forever Stone that would allow them to carry out their plan to ‘cleanse the universe of all corruption and evil’. This was to be done in their New Dawn project. And when Brisbane said that to his mother she went into a rage and they had a very violent, screaming argument. Mistress Daressa grabbed a laser weapon and killed six of the Cusp people outright in just a second or two. Her son attacked her and knocked the weapon out of her grasp. He told her he was extremely sorry for what he was about to do, and told her he would not allow anything to prevent their New Dawn. He turned a weapon upon her and stunned her into unconsciousness. The remaining Cusp people carried his mother out, and for the next several weeks they continued to extract technology from the stored Forever Stone data and finalize their plans for the ‘New Dawn’.”
Brisbane sat in total disbelief on the floor. He could not believe what he was hearing. His head swam with so many questions, but he had to focus and get to the core of the matter.
“I need you to tell me everything you know about the ‘New Dawn’ technology,” Brisbane said urgently. So very much was riding on the answer to this question, that Brisbane was barely able to comprehend its significance.
“The technology they uncovered is an extremely advanced form of neutrino-based DNA encoding and propagation,” the robot said. “They had discovered a way to encode DNA instructions using neutrinos. These instructions would resequence any biological DNA it came in contact with, encoding new directives which made the organism age very rapidly and change its internal chemistry so that everything it did poisoned it. Since neutrinos are basically weightless, they can penetrate any solid matter and propagate through any medium. Nothing in the universe is safe from neutrinos. They also found a way to propagate neutrinos through compressed space at the Sanderford limit, which is one thousand times the speed of light. So, what they discovered was a way to alter any form of biological DNA in the galaxy and change it so that the organism rapidly ages and dies, and to transmit these instructions at the highest theoretical velocity.”
Brisbane was awe-struck at what he was hearing. “That is in fact their ‘New Dawn’, just as Daressa said,” he thought to himself.
The robot continued. “But they were limited by their inability to propagate the neutrino stream over an entire galactic quadrant, as they intended. The best they could do was to activate their neutrino weapon over a small area. They eventually extended their capability to a small planet, the results of which are visible on Dreen 7. But that has changed recently. I have heard that the Cusp Foundation has used the knowledge extracted from the Forever Stone with the expertise of a criminal by the name of Mr. Claude Wendigo, to develop a way to propagate the neutrino stream over most of the galaxy.”
“I’ve heard of Claude Wendigo,” Brisbane said as he nervously paced around. “He’s been in hiding from the authorities ever since he escaped from a prison transport ship years ago.” He stopped and turned to the robot. “Ramses, do you have any idea when the Cusp Foundation is planning to do another test of their neutrino weapon?” he asked.
“No more tests are planned,” the robot responded curtly. “Mr. Claude Wendigo is en route to the Cusp Foundation emitter site even as we speak, with the enabling keys and final programming to make their emitter fully functional. The Cusp Foundation is planning to fire their neutrino emitter weapon at full power in exactly four hours, twenty-eight minutes and sixteen seconds,” the robot said with a complete lack of emotion.
Brisbane’s head nearly exploded when he heard that. “WHAT??!” he shrieked. “They are going to fire that thing in less than four and a half hours??!” Brisbane nearly fell over when the news struck him. “Ramses, do you have any idea where this emitter is located?”
“I do have a location that I extracted from the Cusp Foundation computers before they left this base,” the robot said. “However it is encoded in several layers of Cusp Foundation encryption technology and I cannot decipher it, either with my internal computers or the main computers here.”
“We can decrypt it on the Archangel!” Brisbane said excitedly. “The question is, can we get back there and get the information in time to use it?” He thought for a second and turned to the robot. “Ramses, it is of the very most critical importance that the emitter location is decrypted. We have to get back in compspace communication range with the Archangel and transmit the data to them. You must accompany me back to the shuttlecraft and so we can begin our return to the Archangel immediately.”
“I will accompany you,” the robot said dispassionately. They quickly exited the dome and returned to the shuttlecraft.
Minutes later Brisbane and the robot were on the Dreamcatcher shuttlecraft, roaring through compressed space at maximum velocity, rushing back to get in communication range with the Archangel. Brisbane was constantly monitoring the controls of the shuttlecraft, pushing the engines well past their recommended safely limitations, in a desperate bid to get the emitter location to the Archangel. Ramses was assisting, and amid all the computer warnings and engine alerts, he announced, “Compspace communication range will be reached in four seconds.”
On the bridge of the Archangel, tension was thick as a heavy fog as the increased movements of the Kellurian military forces were being tracked. The warships and firepower continued to build in a most ominous fashion. Nerves were frayed and everyone on the bridge nearly jumped at the same time when it was announced that a compressed space message was coming in. “Put it on speakers,” the captain ordered, and a crackly, static-filled message came over the communication system.
Amid all the phase-shifting and white noise, a faint but recognizable voice was heard. “Brisbane Richardson to the Archangel,” it started. “Captain, I have uncovered the location of the Cusp Foundation neutrino emitter, the data is heavily encrypted but I believe the Archangel’s computers will be able to break it. I am transmitting it now.”
Captain Twillig motioned to Alanna, and an indicator light lit up on her console. Several seconds later, she said, “Transmission received, starting Cusp Foundation decryption protocols at the highest priority level.”
The captain turned back to the communication console. “Lieutenant Richardson, your transmission has been received and decryption has begun. Do you know what the Cuspies are planning to do?”
“Yes I do,” came the reply. “The Cuspies have devised a way to reprogram biological DNA through a neutrino carrier wave. This DNA change is what induces the rapid aging and septicemia in any life process. Their goal is to extinguish all life in the quadrant and repopulate it with organisms of their own choosing.” Everyone on the bridge stopped what they were doing and looked up in stunned disbelief. Even the looming Kellurian threat amassing outside in space was utterly, completely forgotten in that critical instant in time.
“When is this neutrino discharge going to take place?” the captain asked fearfully.
Again the wavering, shifting, static-filled message came out of the speakers. “Best info to date has the weapon being fired in two hours, fifty-three minutes and nine seconds, mark.”
Captain Twillig’s eyes opened wide as he realized how very little time there was. Nervously he turned to Alanna. “Report decryption progress,” he ordered.
Alanna’s fingers flew over the computer console as she cleared out non-critical programs and shifted computer resources to devote to the decryption. “Decryption is twenty-seven percent complete,” she said, “we are proceeding as rapidly as possible.”
“Let me know the second it is finished, Alanna,” the captain asked. “How can they do something like that over an entire galactic quadrant?”
“Until recently, they could only engage this weapon over a range that was at most, the size of a small planet,” Brisbane replied. “That is why Dreen 7 is now a dead, sterile world. But since then they have obtained technology to propagate their neutrino stream on the scale of a galactic quadrant and also at the speed of the Sanderford limit.” The bridge of the Archangel fell dead silent at this information, unable to comprehend how any of this could be possible.
“A known criminal scientist has provided them with the means to discharge their weapon on a galactic scale. A former prisoner named Claude Wendigo is headed to the emitter location now, with enabling keys and activation sequences which will make the Cuspie weapon completely operational.” Alanna’s face went deathly pale at this revelation. Immediately she thought back to the fateful flight of the prison transport ship Franconia, when she lost her captain, her mentor and friend, and had an opportunity to destroy the shuttlecraft which allowed Claude Wendigo to escape, but instead chose not to. If she had fired upon that shuttlecraft, would the galaxy be on the edge of total destruction it appeared now to be? For several seconds she nearly blacked out, and only snapped out of it when she heard the captain’s voice speaking sharply to her.
“Alanna – ALANNA!” he nearly shouted. “Decryption progress, please!”
“I – I’m sorry, sir,” she responded in confusion. Consulting her computer console, she replied, “Decryption is at fifty-six percent.”
“I don’t understand how they can fire this weapon and condemn all life to extinction,” the captain asked in confusion. “Wouldn’t that fate also include the hundreds of thousands of Cusp Foundation followers living on many planets in the quadrant?”
“Indeed it would, sir,” Brisbane replied, “but the Cusp Foundation followers have been told they will be martyrs for the greater cause, and the sacrifice of their lives will be the basis for the new order of life after the ‘New Dawn’. They are more than happy to give their lives to this madness.”
“But that means that all the Cuspies will die along with everyone else,” stated the captain.
“From the information and plans provided to me, the Cuspies have built a gigantic neutrino emitter in the shape of a sphere at a secret location. The outside surface of this sphere is the emitter, capable of directing the encoded neutrinos outward in all directions at once, but not inward. The inside of this sphere is the only area that will be shielded from the neutrinos. The inner chamber of the sphere is large enough to hold several thousand Cuspie followers, the elite of their organization, who will be the only beings protected from the neutrinos. They will survive because they will be inside the emitter during the discharge. Anyone and anything outside the sphere will be exposed – and contaminated.”
Everyone looked at each other in despair. They knew their fates and the fates of everyone they know and love will be sealed if the Cuspies discharge their weapon, which at this time appears to be inevitable.
A softly beeping alarm from Alanna’s console broke the stifling silence. “Decryption process complete, sir!” she announced. “Plotting galactic coordinates now.”
“On the main view screen,” said the captain. The main bridge screen went blank for a second and a map of a lightly-traveled area of the galaxy appeared, with a red box around a small cluster of stars toward the lower edge.
“Lieutenant, it appears that the emitter is located on a small, uninhabited planet revolving around a Class G star in the Abell 1478 cluster, near the Cepheid star-forming region. The exact location is being pinpointed right now.”
“That is bad news, sir,” Brisbane said ominously. The area is an enormous distance from anything. Any vessels the Alliance, or the Kellurians for that matter, that used to be in the vicinity have been pulled back to fortify the borderlands area, where the Archangel is right now.”
“Time to Cusp weapon discharge,” the captain asked desperately. Alanna punched some commands into her computer. “Two hours, forty-thee minutes, six seconds.”
“I heard that, sir,” Brisbane said dejectedly. “There is no way I or any Alliance vessel would be able to reach the area in time. The distance is just too great.”
Talox sat in stony silence throughout the entire exchange, and suddenly began to enter information in his computer console. “Captain, there may be a possible solution,” he announced.
“What do you have, Subcommander?” the captain said, looking up at him.
“I have performed some calculations, and it appears that we may have a chance to reach the emitter site in time using the Frontiere. If someone leaves immediately and proceeds at the highest possible velocity, there is a sixty percent chance that they would reach the emitter before it discharges. They can then destroy it with a nuclear missile.”
Captain Twillig and everyone on the bridge were shocked to hear that. “Is that possible, Subcommander?” he asked.
“Here are my calculations,” Talox said as he transmitted the data on his monitor screen to general distribution on the bridge. “Please verify my work.”
Alanna took a quick, intense look at the timelines and velocity parameters. “It looks like it might work, sir,” she said, allowing herself a small measure of hope. “We could possibly get there, but the Frontiere has to leave within the next two minutes. But, there is a major problem.”
“What is it, Alanna?” the captain asked.
“There is so little time and the distance so great, the only way the Frontiere can get there in time is to take a direct route, which by necessity will have to cross over into Kellurian territory for a short distance. I have plotted several different trajectories through compressed space, but the only one that will reach the target in the allotted time is the one through Kellurian space.” She transferred her projections to the main view screen and it became obvious to all that what she said was absolutely, unalterably true.
The captain thought carefully for a couple of seconds, knowing full well the enormous responsibility his next decision would carry. If the Kellurians detected the Frontiere crossing into their space, they could instantly misinterpret it as an act of war and begin retaliation, beginning a final conflict which would only be stopped by the discharge of the Cuspie emitter, or complete destruction of both sides. He could not believe the weight that was on his shoulders, but things rapidly became clear to him.
Turning to Talox he said, “Subcommander, you have the Frontiere. Go now. Take out the Cusp Foundation emitter.” Talox stood up and quickly exited the bridge without saying another word. Everyone understood the enormous risks and the enormous stakes involved.
Captain Twillig turned to the communication officer. “Patch me through to Commander Thurin on the Kellurian warship Saureg, emergency channel.” The officer was momentarily surprised at such an unexpected order, but did as he was told. Seconds later the main view screen broke apart into static, but an image of the command area of a Kellurian warship. The captain of the warship whirled around in his chair and looked directly at them. “Twillig!” he bellowed, “what is the meaning of this interference?”
“We’re going to try something a little different this time, Thurin,” Captain Twillig replied sharply. “You’re going to keep your mouth shut for a while and listen to what I have to say!” Thurin’s face registered shock and surprise at Captain Twillig’s forceful demand, as did everyone on the Archangel bridge.
“This is what’s going on, Thurin. We have recently discovered a Cusp Foundation plan to use an enormous neutrino burst to reprogram the biological DNA of every form of life in this quadrant, causing rapid aging and senescence. They will also alter bodily fluid chemistry to induce acute septicemia.”
The Kellurian commander turned purple when he heard that. “You have a lot of nerve, bringing up senescence and blood poisoning to me,” he ranted, “when that is exactly what you jackals did to cause the death of Ambassador Craethon!”
Captain Twillig was taken aback by this news, since this was the first time the Alliance had received any definitive information on how Craethon died, although the Alliance had received the full measure of blame for the incident. “You don’t understand, Thurin. The Alliance didn’t kill Craethon. His murder was caused by the Cusp Foundation neutrino emitter, and now they are mere hours away from dooming every form of life in this quadrant to the same agonizing fate, including you, me and everyone on our ships.”
Thurin’s jaw dropped open when he heard this, but immediately his expression turned to hate. “You are lying!” he exploded. “You are lying to cover up your Alliance’s involvement in Craethon’s death!”
“No I’m not,” Twillig protested earnestly, “and I can prove it. Several days ago, Daressencia Laportine was brought to our medical facility in an advanced state of senility and septicemia. She told us directly the Cusp Foundation had turned its weapon on her. We did a DNA scan on her and found the altered DNA segments. I’m sure your medical personnel have done a DNA scan on Ambassador Craethon. I’m asking you to let us send you Laportine’s DNA scan for your medical people to compare with Craethon’s scan. Of course the two DNA scans will be fundamentally different, but you will be able to see the functionally equivalent reprogramming which would produce the same results in Craethon as it did in Laportine.”
Commander Thurin gave Twillig a very distrustful look but the Captain sensed that he was starting to soften. “How do I know these scans you talk about aren’t faked?” he demanded.
“Your medical personnel will be able to determine if our scans are authentic,” the captain said. He moved around the console and walked up to the main view screen. He looked directly into the image of his Kellurian counterpart. “I’m asking you to review the DNA scans,” he said urgently. “Everything you have ever known depends on you believing us.”
“If we do agree to examine the scans, what’s the point of all this, Twillig?” the commander asked. Twillig turned around and walked back to his command console. “Because in less than two minutes, the Frontiere will be leaving this starship and head to the place we believe is the location of the Cusp neutrino emitter. It is our last and only chance to destroy it before the Cusp Foundation discharges it. To get there on time, it must pass through a small area of Kellurian space. We ask that you let it pass without incident. It will be in your territory for 2.5 minutes. It is absolutely critical that you understand that it is not an offensive action by us; rather, it is the only opportunity we have to stop the Cusp Foundation before it discharges its weapon.”
The Kellurian commander said nothing, and only glared at the captain, but the captain knew he had won. He reached down and touched a communicator. “Captain Twillig to the Medical department,” he said. A second later the reply came, “Dr. Calcagno here.”
“Dr. Calcagno,” Captain Twillig said, “send the complete medical file on Daressencia Laportine to my command console.” Seconds later, the doctor responded with, “Files have been transmitted.” The captain turned around and immediately sent the files to the Kellurian warship. Commander Thurin looked to his side and touched some controls on his side. “We will examine your files, Twillig,” the commander said gruffly.
“You have one minute,” Twillig said. “That’s all the time that can be spared.” The view screen on the bridge went to black and Captain Twillig let out a long sigh. “We’ve done all we can,” he said to the silent crewmembers. “All that’s left now is for them to trust us.”
Two minutes later the Frontiere departed from the hangar area of the Archangel containing a single Cyclopean occupant. It banked sharply to the right and veered off with great speed. Seconds later, it disappeared in a flash of white light as it entered compressed space and began the most important mission of its long, illustrious career. The dozens of warships amassed on both sides, their armaments bristling, all watched the departure of the Frontiere and did nothing.
