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