An AU Voyage Story
Journey With Fear
By Storm
A lot of people think the
episode Journey With Fear was one of the sillier episodes that took
place during Voyage‘s four year run. From a scientific standpoint it certainly
was - but that was classic Irwin Allen. For Bob Dowdell’s fans, however, it is
perhaps one of our favorites, because Chip got to step out of Lee Crane’s
shadow - incidentally giving Bob the opportunity to prove he really could act!
Here is a somewhat more realistic version (at least from the scientific
standpoint) set in an alternate universe.
Warning -
This story deviates from the original script. Considerably.
Lt. Commander Chip Morton
tilted his head back as he gazed up at the rocket that towered above him on the
launch pad. What the hell, he thought to himself, was I thinking when
I volunteered for this mission? He snorted to himself, knowing very well
why he’d done it. I was tired of being Lee Crane’s shadow, of being a
non-entity that Nelson never noticed. Good ole’ Chip. Go off and leave the boat
in my hands while they’re off God knows where, doing who knows what, and me
totally clueless because it’s all top secret need to know - and I don’t need to
know. Well, it’s too late to back out now. He gave a small, almost
imperceptible shake of his head and stepped resolutely into the elevator that
would take him and his fellow astronaut to the small experimental spacecraft
that waited at the top.
Major Wilson, the pilot for
this secret first launch of a reusable spacecraft from the test range at
Edwards Air Force Base, stepped in beside him, followed by a bevy of
technicians who would accompany them to the top and see them settled into the
ship. The ride up took only minutes, but to Morton it seemed a lifetime. The
knowledge that Seaview was monitoring this flight - that they were
positioned as a recovery vessel just off the Atlantic coast in the event of a
malfunction before the spacecraft reached orbit - was one more burden on his
mind. He hadn’t expected Nelson to volunteer the Institute’s services in
support; in fact he’d really halfway expected the Admiral to block his attempt
to become one of X-23’s pilots and demand that he withdraw from the project -
or tender his resignation as Seaview’s XO. He’d been prepared to do so.
What he hadn’t known was that Nelson had a hand in the manufacture of the
spacecraft - the heat shielding in the craft’s hull was a modified version of
the Herculite used in Seaview’s ‘glass windows’. Another one of those
top secret ‘need to know’ items that no one bothered to tell me, was his
bitter thought. So instead of being displeased, Nelson had been delighted, for
it had given him the opportunity to volunteer the Institute’s services for a
larger role without stepping on too many toes. After all, with one of his
command officers in the flight crew, he had a vested interest in making sure
all went well with the flight.
At the top, he and Major
Wilson climbed into the ship, settled themselves into their couches and allowed
the technicians to strap them in. The flight deck became a seemingly chaotic
circus as the technicians swarmed around them, hooking up hoses to their suits
and what seemed like miles of wiring. It took a good three hours to get
everything connected and calibrated, going through what seemed to Morton to be
endless checklists. Then suddenly they were finished and the last technician
had stepped outside, allowing the hatch of the spacecraft to be sealed behind
him. The two astronauts were now committed. Unless the launch was aborted,
there would be no backing out now.
The countdown seemed to race
by and yet time crawled. As the final seconds counted off, Morton closed his
eyes and said a silent prayer. As the engines ignited, a rumble rose from the
tail of the rocket, shaking the entire ship. He felt the tug of gravity began
to pull him deeper into his seat as the ship to rise; the sound of the main
engines became a roar that filled the very marrow of his bones. Gravity pulled
harder as the rocket accelerated and he sank deeper still into his seat. Kinda
like doing a steep climb in the flying sub, he thought to himself. From the
periphery of his vision he could see the sky outside the small window beside
him deepen and turn to black. The horizon began to noticeably curve; the earth
stretched away below him, a sunlit planet against the black of space. Well,
this part’s most definitely NOT like the flying sub, he had to admit.
The main engines shut off and
where he’d felt several times heavier than normal just a few seconds before, he
was now weightless. A wide smile lit up his face and he softly laughed with
delight. This was almost like scuba diving, albeit in a far larger ocean. Too
bad it wouldn’t last very long. They were supposed to do one orbit and land
back at Edwards. He turned his attention to the instrumentation he was supposed
to monitor during their flight. Everything looked good and they were right on
their projected flight path, about to come up on the east coast of the US in a
few moments.
An odd humming sound caught
his attention and he looked uneasily around the small cabin seeking the source.
He could see Major Wilson gazing intently around as well. The sound rapidly
rose in volume, filling the small cabin until it was as much felt as heard.
Both men shouted, grabbing at their helmets in pain as bright lights began
shimmering all around them. Morton reached for the radio - something was
horribly, terribly wrong and he needed to let Ground Control know. The cabin
began to fade around him before he could complete the motion; his last
conscious thought was that this was a hell of a way to die.
*************
Consciousness returned
slowly, along with the awareness that he was somehow still alive. He couldn’t
hurt this bad and be dead. Morton tried to lift a hand to his face and found
that he was unable to move.
What the hell?
As further awareness
penetrated, he realized that he was sitting in a large chair with his wrists and
ankles restrained, with some kind of helmet covering his head, completely
blocking his vision except for straight ahead. A frisson of fear crawled up his
spine. He was a prisoner, but who his captors were was anybody’s guess. The
most likely suspects were the Soviets or the People’s Republic, but the weapon
or whatever it was they’d used to capture the spacecraft was unlike anything he’d
ever seen or heard of before. He shivered; if their technology was this far
ahead of the United States, then his country was in dire danger. He had to
somehow get away and warn his government.
The sound of someone else moving about in the room behind
him caught his attention. At least he thought it was someone else. The person
had an odd, almost clumsy gait. He thought he heard the sound of someone
muttering under their breath, but couldn’t make out what they were saying. It
clearly wasn’t English, but it didn’t sound like Chinese or Russian either. In
fact, he didn’t recognize it at all. The sounds moved closer and something
clammy touched him on the shoulder. He couldn’t help but flinch, shying away
from the unexpected sensation. It didn’t feel like a person had touched him -
it didn’t feel like anything he’d ever felt before in his life. It felt… alien.
His movement seemed to
surprise the other. Clearly they hadn’t been expecting him to be conscious, for
the person - or whatever it was - hastily shuffled backwards and shouted out
something in that strange language. Definitely not something he recognized. The
sound of a second set of shuffling footsteps entered the room, accompanied by
more mumblings he couldn’t understand, followed by another pair of clammy hands
touching him. The feeling of alienness intensified. Catching sight of the
shadows on the wall in front of him, he suddenly knew with absolute certainty
that his captors weren’t Russians or Chinese - they weren’t even human. His
shout of raw fear sent his captors momentarily scrambling back, but then he
found out what else the helmet did besides impair his vision. A searing pain
arced through his brain, briefly blanking all of his senses.
He wasn’t sure how long had
passed as he began to return to awareness again. His head ached and his ears
were still ringing. His eyes burned… he realized with a sudden start that his
vision hadn’t returned. A brief spurt of absolute panic set in, but when he
opened his mouth to scream, nothing emerged. He tried to twist within his
bonds, but his muscles refused to obey. Panic turned to mind bending terror and
Chip Morton wavered for a long second at the brink of insanity before plunging
over.
******************
Admiral Harriman Nelson paced
the deck of his cabin, alternating between fury at the ineptitude at NASA that
had resulted in the loss of the experimental shuttle and fear for the safety of
Seaview’s executive officer. He should have never let Morton volunteer
for the mission - but Crane had convinced him that Morton needed the project to
build his self confidence. A knock at his cabin door distracted him from the
well worn rut of his thoughts.
“Enter,” he growled, knowing
that only two people would dare approach him when he was in one of his ‘moods’;
Seaview’s captain, Lee Crane, and the Chief Medical Officer, Will Jamison.
His visitor proved to be the captain, who’s hazel eyes failed to conceal the
pain - and guilt - he was feeling. Nelson felt his own ire die at Crane’s
subdued demeanor.
“Lee…lad, it’s not your
fault.”
“Isn’t it?” Crane hitched his
shoulders as if in pain. “I talked you into to letting him go.”
Nelson snorted. “Only because
I wanted the opportunity to have one of our own aboard for firsthand
observation of the new Herculite. So you didn’t have to try very hard to convince
me. If anyone’s to blame here, it’s me.” He waved Crane to a chair. “I didn’t
pay enough attention to Chip to even realize how unhappy he was until you
pointed it out to me. I just couldn’t read him the way you do.”
“We went to the Academy
together, Admiral. He’s my best friend. I can’t help but feel responsible.”
Crane was twisting his signet ring, a sure sign of his agitation.
“We don’t know for sure the
shuttle was destroyed, Lee. The message I got said clearly that the ship was
missing - not that it had been destroyed.”
“Then where could it have
gone?” Crane asked in agitation.
“Lee, it’s not beyond the
realm of possibility that our country’s enemies managed to abduct the ship and
crew.”
The possibility only
increased Crane’s distress. “Chip doesn’t have my ONI training, Admiral. He
wouldn’t know what to do to get away. And until we know who has him, no one can
go after him.” The unspoken part was that Crane would go after him,
whether or not Washington and ONI approved.
Nelson sighed. Jiggs Starke,
COMSUBPAC, had chided him again just the week before for letting such a close
relationship develop between his captain and XO. He’d warned that it would
sooner or later interfere with their ability to carry out their duty. That it
hadn’t was a testament to both men’s professionalism, but the admiral had to
privately wonder what would happen to Seaview’s captain if Morton didn’t
make it back whole and healthy from wherever he’d gone. Crane always carried a
burden of guilt when there were any casualties among the crew, but Nelson could
tell that this particular burden was eating at the captain more than usual.
“Let’s not write Chip off
yet, Lee. He may not have your training, but he isn’t an idiot either. And if
whoever has him gets the least bit careless, Chip may just surprise them with
his ingenuity.”
Crane turned haunted eyes to
him. “Do you really believe that?”
“Yes,” Nelson said firmly,
surprising himself. Observation of Morton during training for the space mission
had given him new insight into the character of his XO. While he’d had Morton
in his classes at the Academy, it had been John Phillips, Seaview’s
first captain, who’d talked Nelson into hiring the young officer for the
position of XO. When Crane had accepted the position as captain, he’d asked
Nelson to keep Morton on. Having gotten accustomed to the efficiency with which
Morton ran the boat, Nelson had been quite happy to agree to the request. He’d
been content to merely maintain the status quo - and was now coming to regret
not getting to know the young man better on a personal level.
“If it’s humanly possible, Lee, we will get
him back.” He paused for a moment before adding, “I’ve asked for NASA’s data
tapes, Lee. The originals, with all the raw information on them. I’m hoping we
can come up with an answer to just what really happened to the shuttle. Do you
want to help me analyze them?” He knew that Crane would be crushed if they
learned the ship had been destroyed, but he figured the captain would take the
news better if he saw it for himself. And even if the worst had happened, they
might be able to figure out who had done it - and avenge their shipmate.
*******************
Morton felt awareness seeping
back in, even though his brain felt like it had been pried loose from his
skull, run through a food blender and pureed, then fried on a hot griddle like
a pancake before being reinserted in his head. He ached, from the tips of his
fingers to the ends of his toes. Even his hair felt like it hurt. His eyes
continued to burn, but there was still only darkness. Perhaps it was just as
well. The flashes of memory of what had been done to him over the last few
hours drifting around his abused brain made him want to crawl right back into oblivion.
He recalled with shame having answered questions regarding American military
defenses - and in particular questions about Seaview and Nelson. He
seemed to vaguely recall that some of the things he’d told them about the
Admiral had upset his alien captors. That produced ambivalent feelings; a
certain grim satisfaction that at least one human on earth produced trepidation
in these creatures, but also a fear that if they were frightened of Harriman
Nelson’s genius that they might target him and Seaview. He sighed. At
least whatever they’d done to his mind to make him spill his guts didn’t seem
to be permanent - though the guilt at having not been able to resist might well
be. That, he told himself, is something I’ll have to deal with later
- if I have a later.
As his other senses sharpened
back to some semblance of clarity, Morton realized that he was no longer being
restrained in a seated position. Not that it matters much, he thought to
himself bitterly. Being blind, he could have the shuttle sitting right in front
of him, ready to return to earth and he’d still be stuck here - wherever here
was.
That thought froze him in
place. Wherever here was. Suddenly certain that he wasn’t on earth, he
carefully turned the thought around in his mind. Why am I so sure? The air?
No, that is something that can be manipulated in any closed environment.
The gravity. That’s what
doesn’t feel quite right - it feels just a bit too light. Well, if his captors were aliens, it stood to reason
that they might have a base on another planet or moon in the solar system. At
least he hoped he was still in earth’s system. Resolutely he pushed away the
idea that he might not be and considered what he knew about the other planets
in earth‘s home system.
I can’t be on earth’s moon,
unless they have some sort of artificial gravity field. Ditto for Mercury or
Mars if I remember my astronomy right. The gravity isn’t crushing enough to be
any of the gas giants in the outer system, and I didn’t think any of those
moons are big enough to be almost normal earth gravity. That leaves Venus. He swallowed hard. Venus has a gravity about nine
tenths of earth’s if memory still serves me. About right for what I’m was
feeling.
He groaned. They had to be
underground if they were on Venus. The average surface temperature was hot
enough to melt lead, which would make building any sort of surface installation
more than a little challenging. Not to mention a toxic - at least to humans -
atmosphere. That also made it the perfect place to hide a base.
“Damn,” he muttered out loud.
And froze at the snort that
came from somewhere in the room.
“Major Wilson?” he asked
softly, knowing even as he did so that it wasn’t his fellow astronaut.
“The Major, I am not,”
whispered a soft childlike voice that sounded totally unlike the bug eyed
aliens he‘s seen before. “Fear I do, that he is dead.”
“Dead? How? Why?”
“Faster to awaken, he was.
Fought them, he did.”
“So who are you and why are
you telling me this?”
He could almost hear the grin
in the reply.
“Ah. A spy, I am.” The voice
took on a more somber tone. “Breakers of treaties, the Centaur are. Here, you
should not be.”
Morton mulled that
information over. Centaur is what those froggy looking aliens are
called? Definitely not what the same
sounding word means in English. But that is neither here nor there - and he
definitely agreed with this new alien’s statement that he shouldn’t be here. But
can I trust this creature, who probably isn’t any more human than my captors?
“Is there anything you can do
about any of it?” he asked.
“Yes,” answered the other
simply.
“Dare I ask which part?”
His answer was a chuckle. “All
of it, in time, I can do.”
“Then let’s get started.
Which part first?”
“You, gone from this place.”
“I’m all for that,” he said,
giving a mental shrug. What do I have to lose by going along? If this is the
Centaur playing mind games, I’m certainly not in any sort of a position to stop
them. He heard soft steps coming across the room, light and sure, very different
from the clumsy gait of the Centaurs. A light touch on his shoulder surprised
him and he found himself being helped to his feet.
“Come,” said the voice in his
ear. Or maybe from somewhere below his ear. He reached out a hand and gasped in
surprise as his fingers touched a warm and very furry face at a level not much
above his waist.
“What are you?” he asked in
puzzlement.
“The Alyesk, my people are.
Seldar, I am.”
“I’m Lt. Commander Chip
Morton. Do you know which planet we’re on?”
“The second in your system,
it is.”
“Venus,” responded Morton
flatly. “I wondered. Are we underground?”
“Yes.”
“So where are you taking me,
if I may ask?”
“Ask, you may,” responded
Seldar. “To a secret place, we go.”
“Secret from whom?”
“The Centaur,” answered
Seldar, sounding amused.
“Well, that’s a start anyway.
Lay on, McDuff.” It occurred to him even as he said the words that Seldar
probably wouldn’t understand the reference, but then he heard the amused reply,
“And woe to he who cries enough.”
An alien who can quote
Shakespeare. Now there was a thought.
***************
Lee Crane sat hunched over
the lab table, staring in disbelief at the sheets of figures that lay in front
of him.
“You think they’re on Venus?”
His tone was a combination of shock, outrage and despair.
Harriman Nelson paced on the
other side of the table, puffing on a cigarette in agitation. “Everything I’ve
been able to pull out of NASA’s data indicates that’s where the shuttle was
taken.” He ran fingers through his auburn hair, making it stand in little
exclamation points that only seemed to emphasize the irrationality of the
situation.
“But no country on earth has
that kind of technology,” protested Crane.
Nelson stopped his pacing and
turned to his captain, a serious expression on his face. “You’re all too
correct, Lee. There is no one on earth who could have done this. And that means…”
“Aliens,” finished Crane for
him in disgust. “So how do we get to Venus and get Chip and Major Wilson back?”
“I don’t know yet, Lee.
Perhaps we can contact these people and negotiate for their return.”
Crane snorted. And recoiled
as bright shimmering light seemed to suddenly fill the small lab. Without
thinking about the consequences of his actions, Crane reached out and grabbed
the Admiral by the shoulder and gave him a strong shove towards the door while
placing himself in the center of the whirling light. Nelson went flying out
into the corridor as Crane found the world around himself dissolving. Now I
know what Chip went through, was his disjointed thought.
He found himself on hands and
knees with two bizarre amphibious looking creatures flanking him. At his
appearance they had hastily shuffled back, apparently surprised, giving him a
few precious seconds to clear the fog in his head. He launched himself straight
at the nearest alien, grabbing for the orb shaped device it was holding in it’s
upraised hand. The creature let out a startled squeal and tried to wrestle the
device back, but Crane had gotten both hands solidly on it. With his superior
agility and speed, he had the advantage and was sprinting out the doorway of
the room before the two creatures could try and stop him.
Bolting down a rough hewn
passageway, Crane heard unintelligible shouts in the aliens’ language behind
and the sudden blare of an alarm ahead. Two more aliens stepped out of a
doorway. One pointed another orb similar to the one he had stolen at him, but
he was moving fast enough that he had reached them before the creature could
use it. He struck with his elbow, aiming for what looked like gill slits on the
nearest creature’s scaly neck; it went down with a gasp of pain, clutching at
it’s throat as he grabbed the orb from it‘s hand and quickly stuffed it in a
pocket. The other gave a scared bleat and tried to backpedal away, but only
managed to fall over it’s own feet.
Crane whirled on the creature
and pointed his own stolen orb at it. The bulbous froglike eyes on top of it’s
head quivered, the pupils gone wide. It threw up a webbed hand in front of it’s
face, clearly cowed.
“Do not shoot,” it squeaked
in a quavering voice.
Surprised that the creature
spoke English, Crane took a step back. “You speak my language,” he barked at
it. “How?”
“A translator,” it hastily
answered as it tried to awkwardly scoot away.
“Alright then. Where’s the
two men from the shuttle you people captured?”
The creature’s eyes shifted. “I
do not know,” it said.
Crane’s instincts told him
the creature was lying. “I think you do. And I’m going to use this on you if
you don’t tell me the truth.” He waved his stolen orb at it.
“Noooo,” it quavered. “I will
speak.” The first of the creatures reached over as if to silence the one
speaking, but a glare and flash of the orb made it retreat. “The one called
Wilson fought and was killed. The one called Morton is being held in the lower
tunnels.”
Crane reached down and jerked
the creature to it’s feet. “Take me to Morton. No tricks, or you’ll regret it.”
“Yes, yes.” It bobbed it’s
head at him and set off down the tunnel at a fast shuffle, leaving the other
hunched in the doorway behind them.
After what seemed to Crane to
be a small eternity, but was really only a few moments, the creature led him to
a small doorway set off of one of the tunnels.
“In there,” it said, pointing
with a trembling finger.
“Open it,” he commanded. “And
remember, no tricks.”
The creature touched a
concealed pad in the wall and the door slid aside to reveal an empty room. The
alien’s eyes goggled and it turned in alarm towards Crane. “It was here!” the
creature sputtered frantically, waving it’s arms in agitation.
Crane had eyes only for the
object that sat on the floor beside the table in the center of the room.
Clearly Chip had been here at some point, for he recognized the silver helmet
with the small gold dolphins painted on the back under the name Morton. Roughly
grabbing his guide, he pushed the alien against the wall and pressed the orb
against the creature’s throat.
“I told you no tricks.”
“No, no!” cried the creature.
“It was here. It must have gotten away.”
Something about the way the
creature’s eyes were darting around told Crane there was more to the story than
the alien had so far revealed. “What is it you haven’t told me about Morton?”
The bulbous eyes got even
bigger as the alien stared at Crane with real fear. “It was blinded. I don’t
know how it could have gotten away without help.”
“Who would have helped him?
One of your people?”
The alien seemed to take insult
at the idea. “They would not!”
“So either you lied to me
about Morton being here,” Crane gave the creature a shake to remind it of dire
consequences, “or somebody came and got him.”
“There was no time!” the
alien spluttered. “Only six of us here.”
“But I’ve seen only four of
you. That still leaves two who could have gotten him.”
“The others are engineers.
They would not leave their posts. It would not be their duty.” The alien was
very emphatic in its statement.
“Is there anyone else?”
“Only the slaves,” answered
the creature with what could only be described as disdain. “None would be so
bold.”
Crane’s gaze swept around the
empty room. “If you’re telling me the truth about how many there are of you,
then you might need to rethink that belief.”
“They would not.” Again the
creature was emphatic.
“Then we’ll go through every
tunnel and room here until I find him. And if I don’t you won’t like what
happens next.”
The alien moaned as if in
pain and visibly trembled. Crane snorted. It was clear to him that without
their more advanced technology to bully others, these creatures were basically
cowards. Which, in his experience, made them more of a threat than they might
otherwise be. And if the ones he’d met so far were any example, they were also
far from being - as Seaview’s COB Francis Sharkey would have phrased it
- the sharpest tools in the shed. Unless the whole thing was some sort of
elaborate ruse. At this point, he really didn’t have the information to be sure
- not that it mattered a lot right at the moment. His one overriding concern
was to find his XO.
*****************
Morton had long since lost
track of the twists and turns they’d gone through. His strength was starting to
fade and he was both hungry and thirsty. Not to mention he could really use a
pit stop to empty his bladder. He wasn’t entirely sure how he was going to
handle the last since he couldn’t see to aim, so to speak, but the need was
becoming pressing.
“Seldar,” he croaked, “is there
food and water where we’re heading?”
“Yes,” came the reply. “Things
for you my colleagues have gathered.”
“What about, um, toilet
facilities?” His tongue was starting to stick to the roof of his mouth.
“Also, these are.”
“How far?”
“Here, we are now,” came the
unexpected answer as he found himself being guided through another low doorway.
A round object was pressed
into his hand; he realized with relief that it was a metal cup. Lifting it to
his lips, he sniffed. Water. He carefully tasted. It had a slight metallic
tang, but it was refreshingly cold. He drank the whole cup down. If it had
anything in it besides water he couldn’t tell. Not that it mattered. Without
his eyesight, he was entirely dependent on these people. If they wished him
ill, there wasn’t much he’d be able to do about it.
On the other hand - now he
really did seriously need to urinate. “Seldar? Toilet?”
He felt his hand being placed
again on a furry shoulder and he followed as Seldar led him across the small
room to another low doorway. To his relief, once inside Seldar simply showed
him where everything was and how to work it, then left him to his own devices.
It was awkward, but he was grateful for the privacy. It allowed him to retain a
little bit of his dignity.
That problem solved, he
groped his way back to the door where he found the furry little alien waiting.
“Eat, we do,” it told him as
he was gently guided to a seat at a table. The stool he found himself on was a
bit low for comfort, but he judged that under the circumstances, it was
probably the best they could do on short notice. The thing that really bothered
him though, was their evident preparedness for dealing with sightless
individuals. It suggested that what had happened to him wasn’t an isolated
incident.
“Seldar,” he said after
having taken several bites of something that felt like a small loaf of bread
but tasted more like baked fish, “You people seem awfully prepared for dealing
with someone who’s blind. Would you tell me why?”
He heard an unhappy sigh from
beside him.
“Clever, you are,” Seldar
told him wryly. “Device the Centaur use, blindness produces.”
“Always?”
“No. Beings like themselves,
it does not,” admitted the alien. “Warm-blooded like us, yes.”
“Is it permanent?” Morton’s
heart was in his throat as he asked the question.
There was another, deeper
sigh. “Know, we do not.”
“Oh.” Morton was silent for a
moment. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know why they didn’t know the answer to the
second question, but it suggested that none of the previous victims survived
long enough for anybody to tell if their sight would return or not. He wasn’t
sure he wanted to know why they hadn’t survived.
The breathless entry of
another of Seldar’s people into the room cut off any further questions he had.
A hasty conversation in what was to Morton a liquid gabble produced a flurry of
activity as several of the aliens present quickly slipped from the room.
“Are the Centaur coming?”
asked Morton. He couldn’t help the frisson of fear that swept down his spine.
“No.” The odd note in Seldar’s
voice made Morton sit up straighter. “Your captain, it is.”
“Lee?! What the hell is he
doing here?”
“Tried to abduct your
Admiral, the Centaur did.”
“And got Lee instead.” Morton
had to shake his head. “That figures. What do the Centaur intend to do with
him?”
Seldar snorted. “A Centaur,
your captain has. Looking for you, he is.”
“Wait a minute. He got away
from them? And took one of them prisoner?” He couldn’t quite believe
what he was hearing.
“Indeed. Most extraordinary,
your captain is.”
Morton laughed sadly. “If you
only knew.” He then added with a sigh, “He probably blames himself for me being
abducted, since he talked the Admiral into letting me take part in the shuttle
program. Are you going to bring him here?”
“Bring, we must, or kill, the
Centaur will.”
“Just what is their problem,
anyway?” he asked.
Seldar gave a wry laugh. “Afraid,
they are.”
“Afraid? Of what?”
“Everything. But your people,
most all.”
“Humans? But why? We don’t
have interstellar travel. Why should they be afraid of us?”
Seldar was silent for a long
moment. Morton turned sightless eyes to him and felt his eyebrows climbing in
astonishment as the silence lengthened.
“Are your own people afraid
of us?” he asked softly.
“Not… yet,” came the quiet
answer.
“Yet?”
“The potential for great
mayhem, your species has,” Seldar reluctantly told him.
Morton sighed. It was
true. Humanity was capable of terrible evil. “Not all of us, though,” he had to
protest. “Most of us want to get along with each other.”
“True,” admitted Seldar. “Great
potential, you also have. Survive yourselves, and maybe learn peace you will.”
******************
Lee Crane was beginning to
get angry. He’d trudged through what seemed miles of dimly lit tunnels, his
captive alien - which he now knew to be a member of a species known as the
Centaur - in tow. The creature had proved to be worse than useless, stopping
every so often to collapse in a blubbering heap, bemoaning it’s fate. He was
about ready to give it a swift kick in the posterior.
The scrape of a door opening
ahead of them caught his ear. He lifted the stolen orb - not that he had a clue
of how to actually use the damn thing - and peered intently ahead.
And did a double-take.
The three creatures that
appeared in the tunnel in front of him were upright and bipedal, but couldn’t
have been much taller than his waist. They had four arms - two to each side -
and their bodies were completely covered in short, dense fur of various rust
and copper shades. Each slightly flattened wedge shaped face had four
intelligent green-gold eyes; one large pair with round pupils set on either
side of a narrow nose with slits for nostrils, with a smaller pair with cat-like
slitted pupils set slightly above and to the sides of the first pair. Their
lips were little more than a pair of thin lines above a narrow pointed chin,
while their ears were small and flat against the side of their heads, almost
lost in the plush fur. The only clothing they wore were short kiltlike wraps
and what looked like a pair of pouches on each hip that were attached to a
belt. Seeing what he took to be their leader standing directly in his path with
both pairs of arms crossed, Crane couldn’t help but give his captive guide a
sideways glance and dryly mutter, “Slaves, huh.”
To his immense surprise the
tallest and lightest colored of the furry little creatures laughed in a very
human manner, though he couldn‘t see any sort of translation device. Could it
actually understand English without one?
“Captain Crane, you are?” it
asked.
Perhaps it could, given the
odd syntax. Crane had the feeling that the question was only a formality; the
creature probably already knew exactly who he was. “I am,” he answered as he
cocked his head to one side to study it and it‘s companions. He thought the
leader might be male, though the childlike voice gave him no clue either way. “And
who might you be?”
The creature made a short bow
to him. “Seldar, I am. Your Commander Morton, rescued we have.”
“Is he okay?” Relief warred
with apprehension. Given that his captive Centaur had admitted to him Chip was
blind, he feared for his friend‘s well-being.
Seldar gave an enigmatic
shrug. “Alive, he is.”
“He’s blind, isn’t he?” There
was self recrimination in Crane’s voice. Alive didn‘t necessarily mean Morton
was all right - and blind was a state he didn‘t think Chip would handle well. “That
one,” he indicated the Centaur, “said he was.”
Seldar solemnly nodded. “Blind,
he is. But otherwise badly damaged, he is not.”
“Take me to him, then.” It
wasn’t an order, more like a plea. He desperately needed to see for himself
what kind of shape his XO was in.
“This way, come.”
Crane followed, surrendering
his prisoner to the silent pair of aliens that flanked Seldar. Despite their
small size, it was clear that they were not the least bit intimidated by the
taller alien - but it was clearly terrified of them.
“Ummm… Just who are you
people?” Crane finally had to ask after the first couple of turns.
“The Alyesk, we are,”
answered Seldar.
“And?”
Seldar cut his largest pair
of eyes over at Crane and arched a tufted eyebrow. “Federation agents, we are.”
Behind them the first alien gave a panicked moan.
“Federation? From what planet?”
“Many worlds, the Federation
has,” was the answer, but before he could continue with the next obvious
question, Seldar continued. “Number of worlds? Frequently changes it does.
Species - eighty six, when last I heard. Gone we have been, for many of your
months. More, it could be now.”
Impressed, but not willing to
admit it, Crane looked over his shoulder at the Centaur. “What about them? Are
they part of your Federation?”
“Members, they are not. But
treaties they have - and breaking those, their being here does.”
“If they aren’t members - and
neither is earth - how does their being here break their treaties with you?”
asked Crane in a puzzled tone.
Seldar cocked his head to one
side for a moment and looked gravely at him before answering. “Inside our
territory, your star system is.”
Crane blinked. “I see,” he
said slowly. “First, they’re trespassing.” Seldar nodded an affirmative,
prompting him to speculate further. “I’d also guess you’re afraid if they cause
trouble here now, it could have repercussions in the future for your
government, even though the Centaur aren’t members of your Federation and are
here illegally.”
“Yes.”
“I can see where you’d be
unhappy with them,” Crane acknowledged.
“Troublemakers, they are,”
agreed Seldar.
“So what are you going to do
about them?”
Seldar swiveled his head
around so that all four eyes glared at the hapless Centaur. “Coming, the Fleet
is. An accounting, there will be.”
The Centaur promptly
collapsed in a wailing heap, but the other two Alyesk prodded it back to it’s
feet and forced it to continue shuffling on. Obviously this accounting wasn’t
going to be something the Centaur were going to like. He thought about that for
a moment and decided the Centaur probably deserved whatever they got. However…
“So what are you going to do
with me and Commander Morton?”
“Send you home, we will,”
replied Seldar with a shrug, turning back to continue down the tunnel.
“Just like that?” Crane’s
forehead wrinkled in bewilderment.
Seldar shrugged. “Keep you,
we will not. Good will, we would seek.”
“Future relations again,”
noted Crane. That made some sense.
“Yes,” Seldar answered as he
came to a stop in front of a small round door. He looked intently at Crane. “Inside
your Commander Morton is.”
Crane stopped and stared at
the door in trepidation, not quite ready to face his friend. Seldar waited
patiently. At last the captain reached out a reluctant hand and touched his
fingertips to the small square plate beside the door. It silently slid open to
reveal a small pleasantly furnished room - and Chip Morton seated on a small
stool at a table.
Crane had stepped inside
almost before he’d realized he’d done so, followed by Seldar. Morton cocked his
head towards the sound of the opening door, a quizzical expression on his face.
“Chip.” Crane’s single word
was laced with despair.
Morton turned to face him,
his eyes vacant and unfocused. “Lee?”
Crane hesitantly crossed the
distance between them and came to a stop beside his friend. Tentatively
reaching out, he paused for a second before placing a hand on Morton’s
shoulder.
“I’m sorry, Chip.” There was
more Crane wanted to say, but the words stuck in his throat. What could he say
that adequately expressed his remorse for the fate that had befallen his best
friend - and his own role in it?
Morton seemed to read his
mind, for he reached up and placed his own hand over Crane’s. “Lee, not your
fault, buddy. The only ones to blame are me and the Centaur.”
“But I talked the Admiral in
to letting you go,” was his protest.
Morton shook his head. “Lee,
if you hadn’t, I was ready to resign and go anyway. I’d still be here even if
the Admiral had said no.”
Crane was taken aback. He
hadn’t been aware that Chip had been prepared to take such a drastic step.
Apparently Nelson wasn’t the only one who’d failed to see how discontented
Morton was. “I wish you’d told me before
how unhappy you were. I’d have tried to do something.”
“Lee, I needed to do
something for myself.” Morton dropped his head and added in an almost unintelligible
mumble, “I …. I was always in your shadow at the Institute and aboard Seaview.
I guess I was …. envious. You and the Admiral left me out of the loop so many
times on so many things, I guess I got to feeling superfluous.”
Crane briefly closed his eyes
in dismay. He and Chip had roomed together at the Naval Academy and graduated
one and two at the top of their class. They’d gone into submarine service and
done their sub school together. It was only after they’d gone their separate
ways at the behest of the Navy that Morton’s career lagged. Actually, he
reminded himself, it wasn’t that Chip’s career had faltered as much as it
was that my own rise was meteoric. In truth Chip was pretty much right on track
- until he accepted a position on Seaview. Had he stayed in the Navy, or gone
back in shortly after Commander Phillips was killed, he would by now have his
own command. Until this point Crane hadn’t given much thought to what Chip
had given up to stay on as his XO after Seaview’s first captain had been
murdered. Nor had he considered the effect that Nelson’s obsession with secrecy
and need to know might have on Morton’s self confidence.
“Why didn’t you say
something, Chip?” he cried in distress.
“Lee, I didn’t want to seem
ungrateful for everything Admiral Nelson has done for me. And I didn’t want to
upset you. So many of the things we’ve done in the past few years have been so
dangerous, I was afraid if I distracted you or upset the routine in the boat,
it would get somebody killed - probably you.” Morton sighed and lifted
sightless eyes back to him. “I couldn’t have lived with that. My ego wasn’t
worth somebody’s life, especially a friend‘s.”
“Some friend,” Crane answered
bitterly. “Look where it’s gotten you.” He wanted to scream at the unfairness of
it, but didn’t dare break down in front of these aliens - or Morton. He knew
his friend well enough to know that the brave front he was putting on was just
that - a front. He turned his head to Seldar.
“Isn’t there something you
can do?” he asked.
Seldar sighed and shook his
head. “Unsure we are, of how the orb blindness produces. Kill him we could, if
wrong we get.”
Crane straightened. “We’ve
got a Centaur. Let’s ask him.”
“Tell us, he will not,”
answered Seldar. “Ask we have, before.”
“He’ll tell me,” growled
Crane in tones so grim that Seldar took an involuntary step back. “Where did
you take him?”
“Lee, what are you going to
do?” Morton reached out a hand and grabbed him by the arm, worry clearly
written on his face.
“Whatever it takes to get
your eyesight back,” Crane replied. “Seldar, where is the Centaur?”
Seldar looked at him for a
long moment. Finally he nodded. “Take you I will. Others besides Commander
Morton benefit would.”
Crane gently removed Morton’s
hand from his arm, feeling as he did so the faint tremor in his friend‘s body. “Chip,
I have to do this. Whether or not you’d be here if I hadn’t talked Nelson into
letting you join the shuttle program is immaterial. You’re my best friend - and
my XO. I owe you that much.”
************
Harriman Nelson stalked the
corridors of Seaview like a man possessed. Both his captain and XO were
missing, presumably taken by the same alien forces. What made it worse was the
certainty in his own mind that the abduction that had snatched Lee Crane had in
fact been aimed at himself - not the captain. The knowledge made him about as
approachable as a wounded grizzly. The crew stepped warily around him; Sharkey
trailed in his wake, silent for once, but waiting for the Admiral to pull the
proverbial rabbit out of the hat and rescue the two missing officers.
Nelson wished he could.
He had an idea of how the
light beam worked - theoretically - but the technology to put one of his own
together and go after Morton and Crane simply didn’t exist yet on earth. It
would be faster to build a spacecraft capable of reaching Venus. In fact…
He paused for a moment as a
thought occurred to him. He had heard rumors of a top secret project involving
several spacecraft called the Jupiter series. Supposedly the prototype
was ready to be tested. If the ship was everything he’d heard, then he could
get to Venus in a day’s time - two at the most. Spinning on his heel, he turned
around and headed for the radio shack. Sparks had some calls to make.
On the way he mulled over who
would be the best to call. Not NASA - they were out of the loop on this
particular project. Certainly not General Thomas, who was head of the project
in question. Nelson grinned ferally to himself as he contemplated Thomas’
reaction to the revelation that his pet project was not nearly as secret as he
believed. A bit of blackmail might be in order to obtain the General’s
cooperation, he decided to himself.
That left Professor John
Robinson, the chief scientist on the project. Nelson called up in his mind what
he knew about Robinson. Unfortunately it wasn’t much. He had met the Professor
and his wife - What was her name? Maria? - no - Maureen. That was it. He’d
met them only once, at a gala dinner in Washington the year before. They hadn’t
been any more comfortable rubbing shoulders with the politicians than he had
been and the three of them had wound up taking refuge together in one corner of
the room. His impression then had been that Robinsons were both decent people.
If there was a ship anywhere near ready to go, he felt that John Robinson would
help him get it to rescue his two officers.
By the time he’d reached the
control room and ordered O‘Brien to bring Seaview to the surface, he’d
formed a tentative plan of action. His first step would be to call in some old
favors in the intelligence community for ammunition to use on Thomas - and to
double check the Robinson’s background, plus find out exactly where Professor
Robinson was at present, as well as the state of readiness of the Jupiter
prototype.
He never got the opportunity
to put his plan in motion. Just as he started to step towards the radio shack,
bright shimmering lights filled the control room and he felt the world drop
away.
He landed on his hands and
knees, feeling stunned. Giving his head a shake Nelson scrambled to his feet
and was greeted by the sight of two alien beings. Though they were bipedal,
their large bulbous eyes instantly reminded him of frogs; the gill slits in
their necks confirmed an amphibious origin. Definitely not from anywhere in
the local neighborhood, he thought to himself. And in all likelihood
these are the people who snatched my captain and XO. He put a four star
look of fury on his face and stepped towards the closest one.
“Who the hell are you and
what have you done with my officers?” he thundered at them.
It clearly wasn’t the
reaction they were expecting, for both creatures took a hasty step back and
pointed a pair of sliver orbs at him. Some sort of weapon, was his
immediate thought. He didn’t move from his spot, but crossed his arms and
glared. It was a fair imitation of one of Chip’s, the one Kowalski swore could
peel paint from a bulkhead at fifty paces. Apparently the aliens thought so
too, because the pair took a second step back.
“Well?” Impatience was
evident in Nelson’s voice.
“We ask the questions,”
blustered the largest of the pair. Nelson let one eye brow lift and focused in
like a laser on the speaker. It clearly unnerved the creature, for it took yet
another step away from him. Huh, not very brave are they, was Nelson’s
instant thought to himself. And like his captain before him, he assessed their
character to be that of bullying cowards, a type he knew all too well.
“Really,” he drawled. “And
what questions might those be?” He could tell that his response and attitude
had the two aliens severely agitated, but with Lee and Chip both abducted by
these creatures, he was in no mood to cater to their cravings for superiority.
In fact, he wanted nothing better than to get both hands around the leader’s
throat and squeeze. His desire apparently reflected in his eyes and posture,
because the two aliens shuffled further back again and the hands holding the
orbs shook slightly. That was all the warning of what was about to happen that
he needed.
Nelson dropped to the floor
and rolled. The flash from the two weapons collided in the space where he had
been. He lashed out with one foot and kicked the nearest alien in what passed
for its right knee. The creature keened and toppled like a felled tree into the
other one, knocking it sideways and spoiling the aim of its second shot. The
orb weapon jarred from the fallen one’s hand and spun out of sight under a bank
of equipment against one wall. Realizing it was now unarmed, the smaller alien
curled into a ball and wailed in absolute panic as the other tried to bring its
weapon back around to focus on him.
Nelson blinked in surprise at
the reaction of the alien he‘d knocked down, but instinct and training kept him
moving; he managed to make the shelter of an exit tunnel before a third shot
could be fired. Knowing that he would be an easy target if he didn’t quickly
find shelter, he sprinted for the bend in the tunnel ahead - and promptly
knocked down another of the aliens as he slid around the corner. Like the one
he’d kicked, this one dropped in a heap and began to wail. A quick glance
failed to reveal any weapons; he hoped this one was truly unarmed, because he didn’t
have time to stay and make sure. He pounded deeper into the tunnels, wondering
even as he did so if there were surveillance cameras watching his every move.
******************
There were in fact cameras
watching, just as he’d thought, though the eyes that observed the screens were
green and amused by what they saw there. Seldar turned his head slightly so
that he could watch Commander Crane and the captive Centaur out of one eye. The
scene playing out there was quite informative as well. The human officer had a
command presence that was more than merely impressive - it could be downright
intimidating, just like his Admiral‘s. The Federation had been trying for years
now to get the secret of the Orbs from the Centaurs; it had taken Lee Crane
less than fifteen minutes and he hadn’t so much as a laid finger on the Centaur
in front of him.
Watching, Seldar could
certainly understand on a visceral level why humans scared the Centaur
shitless. However, his intellectual side positively lusted for them as
Federation members, especially the Americans. Their form of government had a
lot in common with the Federation - they’d fit right in. He could only hope
that they managed to win their battle with the forces of despotism that
threatened their species, otherwise the Fleet might be back at some point in
the future, faced with the unpleasant task of denying the stars to these
people. He sincerely hoped it wouldn’t come to that. In the meantime, his
people listened in rapt fascination as they learned in detail just how the orbs
worked. And since Commander Crane had brought them two of the devices, they
could not only cure Morton of his blindness - along with anyone else who might
be so afflicted - they had one they could take apart and study as well. His
engineering team was practically salivating at the prospect. He had to shake
his head. The loyalty these people were capable of showing to one another was
nothing short of astounding. What a perplexing and paradoxical species humans
were.
Well, enough rumination. Seldar signaled to two of his people. We have an
Admiral to catch. He had to grin privately at his choice of words. Harriman
Nelson certainly didn’t require rescuing at this point. Perhaps it would
be best if they took Morton with them - he didn’t think Nelson would be easily
persuaded to come with them otherwise.
***************
Morton still sat at the table
where Seldar had left him, head down, shoulders drooping. Now that he was safe…
Safe? He laughed dejectedly to himself. I’m lost on another planet,
blind, with no way home. And no future even if I could get there. He closed
sightless eyes and rocked silently in distress, unaware that he was doing so.
Physical and emotional exhaustion were both catching up with him, with the
result that his mind was becoming so befuddled he had trouble thinking
straight. Adding to his burden was the fact that he unaware that Seldar had
told Crane they’d be sent home, so the thought that his friend was stuck here
with him only added to his emotional distress as his tired mind chased itself
in endless circles of recrimination.
The door opened without him
hearing. The first indication he had that he was no longer alone was a small
hand placed gently on his shoulder. Morton started, his head jerking up as he
sucked in a startled breath.
“I am sorry to disturb you,
but we now have the information to cure you.” Morton thought he recognized the
voice as being that of the Alyesk doctor, who unlike Seldar, used a translator
to communicate. It made him much easier to understand.
Morton’s head slowly turned
towards the sound of the doctor‘s voice. “What did Lee do to get it?” he asked,
dreading to hear the answer, knowing that on those rare occasions when Lee
Crane was pushed into allowing himself to put aside his humanity, the results
could be violent. That it might be happening again, for his behalf, was just
one more brick in his wall of guilt. To his astonishment, the doctor merely
laughed.
“It was a thing of beauty,”
came the reply. “Your Captain did not so much as touch the Centaur - he intimidated
the information out of it. He can be uncommonly menacing when he wishes to be.”
A small smile twitched at the
corner of Morton’s mouth. “You have no idea,” he said as he breathed a silent
sigh of relief. Only once had he seen his friend lose control; when it was
over, Lee Crane had seemed to lose a vital part of himself - and it had taken
him a very long time to get that part of his soul back. It was something Morton
never wanted to see again.
“Oh, but I do,” replied the
doctor. “I have seen him work.”
Morton let it slide for the
moment. “You said you can cure me?” he asked, changing the subject, while
hoping that they really could and that the Centaur hadn’t been lying. He knew
with absolute certainty that if the alien had lied and he wasn’t cured -
or worse, was further damaged - that Lee Crane would kill the creature with his
bare hands and damn the consequences. If the Centaur had the brains of a goose,
it would realize that as well.
“Yes,” the doctor told him. “Sit
where you are and close your eyes.”
Morton did as he was told,
almost not daring to hope, his emotions in a jumbled whirl. There was the
searing sensation in his head again, but not nearly as strong as the last time.
He found himself suddenly blinking at the blurred scene before him.
Blurred…
He sat upright and blinked
some more. With each blink his vision cleared further, until he saw with clarity
the small room in which he sat. He turned wondering eyes to where the Alyesk
doctor stood and couldn’t help the arch of his eyebrows when he saw one of his
alien rescuers for the first time. The creature grinned back at him.
“Can you see me?” he asked.
“Yeah,” answered Morton with
a lopsided smile of his own as he felt much of his despair start to dissipate. “Yeah,
I do. Thanks.” Amazing how much brighter the future looks when I can see
it.
The doctor waved one of his
four arms offhandedly. “Your Captain deserves the thanks - and for not just
you. There are others this could help.”
Morton nodded. “Where is
Captain Crane anyway?”
“The engineers wanted
information on how some of the other functions of the orbs work, so he is
getting that for them. Seldar has a task for you, though.”
“Oh?” Payback time? he
wondered.
“Yes. The Centaur snatched
your Admiral.” Morton closed his eyes and groaned, but the doctor laughed. “They
couldn’t keep him, so he is now wandering the tunnels.”
“Looking for me and Captain
Crane,” finished Morton, shaking his head. Seaview’s crew must be
chewing the bulkheads out of sheer frustration at this point. But for himself
and Lee - well, with the Admiral there, Morton felt their chances of getting
home rose dramatically.
“Yes. We should go fetch him.
Seldar asks that you go too.”
“So the Admiral will know you’re
not part of the bunch that snatched all of us.” Morton nodded. “Probably a good
idea. He can be stubborn.”
“I suspect he is in good
company on that point,” noted the doctor dryly, reminding Morton so much of
Jamieson that he couldn’t help but laugh.
Another of the Alyesk poked
his head through the doorway, beckoning impatiently. Morton levered himself off
the low stool. His knees wobbled slightly, something the doctor’s sharp eyes
instantly detected.
“Sit back down.” The doctor
said something to the other in the liquid gibble that was their native
language, resulting in an audible sigh from that individual and the head
disappearing back out the doorway. The doctor turned back to Morton. “How long
have you been without sleep?”
Morton could only shrug. “I
really don’t know Doc. The Centaur knocked me out a couple of times - I have no
idea for how long.”
The thin lips got even
thinner and the expression in his eyes… It must be a doctor thing, was
Morton’s totally irreverent thought.
“You really need to sleep…”
began the doctor.
“But Admiral Nelson probably
won’t trust you if me or Captain Crane don’t go with you,” Morton reminded him.
“Somebody could get hurt.”
The Alyesk doctor got the
same look in his eyes Jamieson did when any of Seaview’s command staff
confronted him with a similar dilemma. The corner of Morton’s mouth twitched,
trying to smile; he worked hard to stifle the impulse because he had a feeling this
doctor would react much the same as Seaview’s CMO would.
Smile and he’d be busted and left right where he was with orders to get some
sleep - and possibly a needle - or whatever they used here - in his rump for insurance.
The Alyesk doctor finally sighed
as he rolled both pairs of eyes upwards. “Does your own doctor have these
problems?”
“Er,” Morton ducked his head
in slightly self-conscious acknowledgement.
“I thought as much.” He
rummaged around in a cabinet, coming up with a small bottle, then poured a
small cup of water. Taking the bottle he poured half of it in the water and
handed it to Morton. “Here. A stimulant. Takes about five minutes to take
effect, works for two hours, then you crash. Go before I change my mind. And
when it’s done, get yourself some sleep.”
“I will,” Morton promised,
gulping down the cup of liquid, relieved that he hadn’t been threatened with a
dull needle. He made it to his feet without wobbling and hastened into the
corridor where two of the Alyesk waited. They both grinned at him. He grinned
back, suspecting that they played the same sort of game with their own doctor
that he and his crew played with theirs. Some things must just be universal.
**************
Nelson slowed to a walk,
momentarily out of breath after his sprint away from his alien abductors. He
hadn’t seen any more aliens after the first three; more peculiarly to him, he
hadn’t heard anything that sounded like pursuit. Which didn’t set his mind at
ease, but rather the just opposite. He wouldn’t let a prisoner just
wander around his base of operations, even if there was nothing to see but rock
walls, so he couldn‘t imagine these creatures doing so either. It made him
wonder just what sort of nasty traps there might be ahead, which was another
reason for slowing down and scanning the floor and walls ahead of him carefully
before moving on.
“I’m getting too old for this
sort of shit,” he muttered to the seemingly featureless walls. So far he’d seen
no sign of his captain or XO, but this place was a maze of tunnels. The two
could be anywhere - if they were even still alive. They have to be here
somewhere, he told himself fiercely, pushing away the thought that they
could be dead. Part of him wanted to run the corridors shouting for them, but
he knew that would be more likely to get himself caught than find his two
missing officers.
“Admiral, over here,”
whispered a familiar voice behind him.
Nelson whirled to see Chip
Morton peering out through a doorway he’d just passed. Their eyes met briefly
with a look of relief , then he could see Morton’s attention focusing on the
corridor he had just come down. Frowning, Morton frantically motioned for the
Admiral to join him. Apparently they had company coming.
Nelson quickly trotted over
to his XO, sliding through the doorway past him. He heard the door slide shut
behind and nodded in satisfaction - then froze at the sight of two alien
figures at the back of the room who were definitely not the same species as the
ones who‘d abducted him. Morton followed his gaze.
“Admiral, these two gentlemen
are Federation agents, Liam and Jacues.” Each nodded at the sound of their
name. “Their species is known as the Alyesk - and the Frogs are not
their friends. They rescued me and Lee from the Centaur; that’s what the Frogs
call themselves.”
“I see.” Actually he didn’t,
but it probably wasn’t the time for detailed explanations. “Are you and Lee
both okay? And how are they communicating with you that you know these other
aliens aren‘t friends of theirs?”
“I’ve been better,” Morton
admitted, “But I was also a lot worse off before they rescued me. As for
communication - they all have translating devices or speak English. Sort of
anyway. But we need to get back where Lee is - the Centaur can’t follow us
there.”
Nelson looked dubiously at
the small creatures. They met his gaze fearlessly, prompting a wry smile. They
were in many ways, just about as different from the creatures Morton had called
Frogs - or rather Centaur - as they could be. Small, furry, bipedal hexapods,
with two pairs of eyes on each furry face. Were it not for the fact that Liam
was a slightly darker shade of rust than Jacues, he would not have been able to
tell them apart, so similar were they in size and shape. He cocked his head to
one side, considering their anatomy and wondered if their ancestors had been
arboreal. It was also clear from their attitude towards him that they had the
courage the Centaur were so clearly lacking.
“Why isn’t Lee here too,
Chip?”
The look of guilt that
flashed into Morton’s eyes at the question made the hair on the back of Nelson’s
neck stand up.
“Lee is helping the Alyesk
interrogate a Centaur prisoner.”
The bottom dropped out of
Nelson’s stomach. Like Morton, he’d seen the results of that one episode - it
was the reason he was so adamantly opposed to Crane’s continued involvement
with ONI. “He hasn’t…?”
“No. Or at least that‘s what
they tell me,” responded Morton, “but… he agreed to get the information to help
me. The… the Centaur used some sort of device to blind me. The Alyesk didn’t
know how it worked, so they couldn’t reverse the effects.”
Nelson nodded in dawning
comprehension. Crane blamed himself for Morton being there, so he’d do whatever
it took to undo the situation, including sacrificing his humanity - or his
life. He sighed, producing a wan smile from his XO. No wonder Morton was
feeling guilty. But he wasn’t the only one. There was more than enough guilt to
go around.
“Well, then, I suppose we
should go make sure he doesn’t let things get out of hand,” said Nelson. A
sudden thought occurred to him. “What about Major Wilson?”
A look of real regret crossed
Morton’s face. “The Alyesk tell me he’s dead.”
“Have you seen the body?”
asked Nelson grimly.
“No.”
“We’ll have to recover it to
be sure.”
“Already done, Admiral
Nelson,” piped up the Alyesk Morton had identified as Liam in a high child-like
voice. “We’ve studied your people and many of your customs involving the dead
are much like ours. We would want one of ours back in such a circumstance, so
we recovered him for you. I am sorry that we were not able to rescue him alive.
The actions of the Centaur in taking your spacecraft caught us by surprise - it
was a gross violation of interstellar treaty for them to do so.”
Nelson arched an eyebrow. “As
far as I know, my planet never signed any treaty with another planet.”
“It is not a treaty with your
people they have violated, Admiral. It was one they signed with us.”
Liam paused for a moment. “As it happens, your world lies within the boundaries
of our Federation and we have very strict laws concerning interference with the
progress of developing civilizations. Unfortunately the universe is vast and sometimes
those with ill intentions slip through those boundaries. We will have to start
monitoring your world far more closely to prevent such incidents in the future.”
“You do realize, don’t you,
that these Centaur aren’t the first aliens who‘ve come here?” inquired Nelson
dryly.
Both Alyesk winced and Liam
gave a very human sigh. “We had just begun to realize that, Admiral. And I must
admit to you that I am at a total loss as to just why your world
attracts such unwanted attention. The invaders surely know that we will not let
them stay.”
“The Centaur don’t strike me
as being, well….” Nelson trailed off, unsure of how to diplomatically tell
these aliens that he thought most of the other aliens he’d encountered so far
were rather dim-witted.
“I believe what you are
trying to politely say is they are stupid,” the second Alyesk, Jacues, said
bluntly. He shook his head. “None of the races you’ve so far encountered, with
the exception of one, have been particularly intelligent - fortunately for your
people.”
“Ah, the one wouldn’t be the
ship that collided with a meteor and came down off the West Coast of my
country, would it? The one I gave the fuel to?”
“Indeed, the very one,”
continued Jacues. “The Quonh speak quite highly of you and your captain. They
are not members of the Federation, though we do count them as friends and
allies.” He cocked his head to one side thoughtfully. “That may be the reason
these others have targeted you and your submarine - after the story of what
happened with the Quonh circulated, they see you as the guardian at the gate,
so to speak. And are foolish enough to think that if they can eliminate you and
conquer your world before we realize what has happened that we will do nothing
about it. They are quite mistaken, of course. We certainly would not allow
anyone to profit from such actions, because it would only encourage others to
do similar things on other worlds.”
“I see,” said Nelson
thoughtfully. It did make a peculiar sort of sense.
“At any rate,” said Liam,
speaking up again and shifting the subject, “we should be gone from here. The
Centaur are searching for you and we would prefer they do not discover that we
have infiltrated their installation. At least not until the Fleet arrives to
take care of the … problem.”
“What about us?” asked
Nelson, concerned that he and his officers might be considered part of the
problem.
“We will send you back to
your ship, of course. Since your people have already been meddled with, we
would prefer that your government was made aware that the Federation is NOT
responsible for those incursions. That would not be the case if we held you
against your will. Not to mention such ill considered action could potentially
jeopardize future relations between our respective governments,” answered Liam.
Nelson’s relief was palpable.
“How soon can we go back to the Seaview?”
“Within hours,” Jacues told
him. “The Fleet should be here any time. As soon as they arrive, we’ll send you
home.”
“Then by all means, let’s go
collect Captain Crane.”
Their two guides nodded and led the way from
the room into a series of tunnels that were short even for Nelson. Morton had
to bend at the waist to get through some of them; Nelson couldn’t see the
clumsy Centaur even trying to get through such constricted spaces. In a couple
of places the entire group scuttled forward on hands and knees. The Admiral
wasn’t claustrophobic - you can’t live on a submarine if you are - but even he
was beginning to yearn for more elbow room.
The tunnels opened up into a
series of rooms. They found Lee Crane in the second of these, seated at a low
table talking to another of the Alyesk. Upon seeing them Crane came to his
feet, relief on his face.
“Admiral, Seldar told me the
Centaur had brought you here. Are you okay, sir?”
“Fine, Lee, just fine. I got
away before they could do me much damage.” He looked over at the Alyesk who had
hung back as Crane greeted his CO. Catching the direction of his gaze, Crane
told him, “This is Brit. He’s an engineer.”
Nelson nodded a greeting to
Brit. “Pleased to meet you.” He looked back at Crane. “Who‘s Seldar?”
“Me, that would be,” came a
voice from the doorway to Nelson’s right. Nelson turned his head to see an
Alyesk with fur of a light rust color. “In charge, I am.”
“Seldar is the one who
rescued me and Chip, Admiral.”
“Then I owe you a debt of
gratitude,” said Nelson with a nod to the Alyesk.
Seldar shook his head. “Owe
do not. Our fault was, your shuttle taken. More vigilant we should have been.
Cost Major Wilson his life, it did.”
There was that, Nelson had to
admit. “Well, you still have my thanks for rescuing my me and my two officers.
I’ve been told you’ll be sending us home as soon as your Fleet gets here to,
um, take care of the Centaur?”
“Entering planetary orbit
now, they are. As soon as secured the Centaur base is, send you back to your
ship we will.”
“How long should that take?”
asked Crane.
“Already done,” joined in a
new voice. The entire group looked around to find a sable colored Alyesk in
what was unmistakably combat gear coming out of the tunnel behind them. “I am
Galen, by the way.” He reached out one hand to shake Nelson’s. “There were only
five of them left and they were in a fairly disorganized and demoralized state,
Admiral. Most of them were happy to surrender. We also were able to liberate
their slaves.”
Nelson gave him a puzzled
look. “Why would a technologically advanced race want slaves?”
The sable Alyesk shrugged
with both sets of arms. “You’ve seen how clumsy they are - it makes them feel
inferior to many of the other races. Being able to order others around feeds
their egos. At any rate, this incursion into your solar system has been halted,
so it’s time for you and your people to go home.”
“But…,” started Nelson, only
to find the world dissolving around him.
When his vision refocused, he
was in Seaview’s control room,
with Crane and Morton beside him. The crew around them sat stunned for a few
seconds, then shouts of joy and sighs of relief echoed through the gray
submarine’s corridors. Nelson’s whispered, “But, I’d like to talk to you,”
went unheard and unanswered.
*********************
Harriman Nelson sat behind
his desk in his cabin, massaging his temples. He had just gotten off the
videophone with the President, the Joint Chiefs and NASA; the conversation had
given him a monumental headache.
A quiet tap at the door
disturbed him.
“Enter,” he said tiredly,
hoping it wasn’t Dr. Jamieson coming to scold him about getting some rest. He
had too much to do just yet to take a break.
The door opened to reveal
both his captain and XO. Good. He’d told them both earlier that he wanted to
speak with the two them - together - as soon as he‘d finished briefing Washington
because there were things the three of them need to discuss. Giving them a wan
smile, he motioned them on in. Morton snagged the chair in front of the desk,
while Crane push aside a stack of papers and settled on one edge of it.
“So how did the President and
Joint Chiefs take the news?” asked Crane.
“Badly,” snorted Nelson. He
shook his head at the stupidity of some of the people in Washington. “The
shuttle turned up on the lakebed at Edwards; Major Wilson’s body was aboard.
They carped about that. Then they got pissed about the fact that we’re inside
the Federation’s boundaries. As if we have a choice in the matter.” Nelson
stopped, shaking his head at the monumental hubris - not to mention outright
stupidity - of certain politicians and military officers, the latter of whom
should know better. “The fact that our technology can’t touch the level of
these people just seems to go right over their heads and nothing I say seems to
get through to them. It‘s enough to drive a body to drink. Speaking of which…”
He reached for the lowest drawer on the left side of his desk, revealing a
bottle of Scotch inside. As he set the bottle on the desk, he also set three
liberated water glasses down beside it. Pouring a generous slug of the Scotch
into each glass, he motioned for the other two to each take one before leaning
back in his chair to sip slowly at the amber liquor.
“So I take it they aren’t
happy that the Federation is now going to be keeping an eye on the local
neighborhood,” said Crane over the rim of his glass.
“Outraged that somebody
thinks we need a keeper would be more accurate, Lee. Despite the fact that we
clearly are not the most advanced species in this neck of the universe. The
idiots in Washington think that because we were able, just barely, to handle
the previous attempts at invasion, that we ought to be able to hold off all
comers.”
Crane shook his head as
Morton snorted.
“Oh, that’s not the best
part. They also think that we should have been able to waltz off with part of
the technology.” Nelson slowly swirled the amber liquid around in his glass
before adding, “I told them at the time we had other priorities. Surviving
being foremost among them.”
“I take it then, that we are
temporarily persona non grata in the Capitol right now,” mused Crane.
Nelson gave a short bark of
laughter. “Until the next time they want us to pull their fat out of the fire.
Ungrateful bastards.” He took another sip of the Scotch. “Chip, NASA has
decided to suspend the shuttle program for now. They told me to relay the
message that your services were no longer required. I’m sorry, lad.” There was
real regret in his voice.
Morton stared for a moment
into his own glass before answering. “It’s just as well, Admiral. I’m not cut
out to be an astronaut.”
There was a moment of awkward
silence.
“Chip,” began Nelson, “I didn’t
realize until I thought we’d lost you how much a part of Seaview - and
my own life - you’d become. I’m afraid I didn’t do you justice by keeping you
in the dark about anything that didn‘t directly involve running Seaview.
I’m sorry. If you want to go do something else, I’ll help in any way I can, but…
I do hope you’ll consider staying.”
“I’m sorry too, Chip,” joined
in Crane. “I should have paid more attention to your needs.” Crane dropped his
eyes. “I didn’t treat you like the friend you really are.”
“I should have said something
myself,” answered Morton, sighing, “I should have told you how being left out
of the loop so much of the time made me feel, instead of taking off and acting
like an idiot. Lee, Admiral, I had a lot of time to think about what I really
wanted while I was blind - while I didn’t think I had any future at all. I
think what I needed was just a different perspective on my life. I certainly
got that,” he added ruefully as Nelson and Crane both gave him small wry smiles
of acknowledgment.
“For now, if you’ll let me, I
think I’d like to stay on at least for another year or so and see how things
go. Maybe you can eventually get another sub funded, Admiral, to replace Polidor.
To tell the truth, I really like the research we do, so I don’t think I really
want to go back into the Navy. I could get a command quicker, but then I’d have
to give the boat up in a year or so and probably wind up ashore behind a desk.
I want to stay at sea, not become a glorified paper pusher. And I prefer
submarines - I really don’t want to wind up on a surface ship. And if I got out
of the Navy, surface ships are about the only option open. The idea of
commanding some freighter - or God forbid - a cruise ship - just doesn‘t
appeal to me.”
Nelson turned thoughtful for
a moment, considering his next words with care, not wanting to promise
something he couldn‘t deliver, but feeling the need to let Morton know that
there had been plans for his future in the works before the shuttle mission
that had gone so awry. “Actually, I have been thinking for some time about a
new design for a boat that’s entirely a research vessel. She’d be smaller than Seaview,
but will be able to dive much deeper. Probably no more than a couple of hundred
feet long, nuclear powered, with a crew of about a dozen. I guess I’ve had too
many irons in the fire to do the project justice and I was certainly remiss in
not mentioning it to you , since part of my plan was to have you as the new
boat‘s skipper. Given everything that’s happened, would you still like to be
involved?”
“Would I!” breathed Morton,
his face lighting up in one of his rare smiles. “That sounds exactly like what
I want to do.”
“It’s going to take several
years to get the project completed,” Nelson warned.
“I understand, Admiral. But
that’s a future worth waiting for.” Morton’s enthusiasm was contagious.
Nelson smiled at him. “In
that case, lad, I’ll let you take charge of the project. You can even
pick the name for the boat yourself when it gets to that point.”
Morton’s blue eyes came alive
with excitement. Nelson looked over at Crane to see relief reflected on his
captain’s face and he silently vowed to himself to keep a much closer watch on
Morton’s well-being in the future. He really should have told Morton long ago
about the project in question and asked if he wanted to be a part of it. He’d
made assumptions - he and Lee both had - about how much Morton wanted - or
needed - to know about things that didn’t directly relate to the running of the
Seaview. It had come perilously close to costing Chip Morton his life.
He hoped they wouldn’t make
that mistake again.
END