Until the dawn, p.38
Until the Dawn, page 38
"We've encountered some of those people, too. You'll notice that we are still here."
William thought for a moment. "What about Peter Wrangler or other enemies. If you allow refugees from Earth to come here, Brotherhood spies already in place might follow them here."
"We can certainly identify and relocate the clones for you to one or more of our own societies where they can live a decent life," offered Noah. He watched the Captain think the matter over.
"No," decided the Captain. "They're our problem. It's our responsibility to make sure that they pay the debts for their crimes to our society, and to make sure they get a second chance after they have done so."
"Your mercy toward Mr. Wrangler is a great demonstration of compassion," decided Noah. He quickly held up a hand as William opened his mouth to reply. "I know… I know most of your crew would probably injure or even kill him were it not for your laws and the military that enforces them. But compassion is what always separates a true leader from the common man. It is also the center of all positive values that keep civilizations like yours alive."
There was a long pause as William Norris, Captain of the Waywardsman, carefully considered the offer that had been presented to him. He stood up and shook Noah's hand warmly, shutting off the tape recorder as he did so. "I will pass your offer along to our Council along with my recommendation that they accept it," he said confidently. "If they approve, we'll have to start thinking of a name for our new planet."
"It already has a name," Noah said with a hint of satisfaction in his voice at Norris's positive reaction to his offer. "The native word for this planet in my language translates to "Tranquility" in yours."
"The faces of those we left behind will haunt me until they receive assistance."
"I am monitoring the situation, Captain. You and I will assist them with dispatch. Will you trust me?"
"Do I have a choice?"
Noah chose not to reply to the question. Instead he pointed toward the swelling crowd outside. "Select your best military people to begin planning a rescue, and I will review their strategy. In the meantime, there is something else that you should consider planning for… something that will not take long at all to complete." Noah watched his reaction with an expression filled with mischief. "Don't you want to give Dr. Marcus and her associates the opportunity to complete your project's primary objective?"
"What do you mean?" asked William curiously.
"With Point-to-Point transit alone, even with your CAS Drive enhancements, you'll never manage to approach the actual leading edge of our universe for any decent length of time," stated Noah informatively. "Not only is the shock wave moving at light speed, but the normal laws of physics also begin to break down as you approach. However," he said, smiling warmly. "…by utilizing my shuttle one more time I can place the Waywardsman directly behind the outer edge for any duration that you specify, giving your specialists as long as they need to take a unique look at what lies beyond."
"That sounds like another recommendation that will probably go over well with the Council," the Captain mused wryly. "Particularly with Jillian Marcus – she's going to want to kiss you or… jump your bones or… something."
"I consider myself forewarned Captain," grinned Noah happily.
"But we are going to help the refugees back in the Sol-system."
"We will do so immediately after your Council accepts our treaty."
Norris carefully glanced out one of the Observation windows again just to confirm his suspicions. "Of course," he said slowly, turning back toward his new friend, "We're going to have to figure out how to convince everyone to get back on board, first."
* * *
Sol-system, 154 days after the attack…
* * *
Sitting dourly in his private quarters on board the United States Lexington, Admiral James Henry tried to continue his ongoing study of the Sol-system. Everything was mapped out for him very colorfully – planetary orbits, suspected locations of Brotherhood vessels and – of course – Earth's current position relative to theirs. He had been trying to justify ordering what would in fact be a suicide mission not so subtly disguised as an attack on the enemy for several hours now. A seasoned, battle hardened veteran, Henry was not the type of man to be indecisive in situations such as this one. Earth's nations, however, had been so totally surprised by the unexpected appearance of the Brotherhood that there had been no opportunity to prepare a practical military response. There had been no sign recently that any other military ships had survived.
One hundred and fifty-four days now, the Admiral thought somewhat bitterly to himself. He still commanded a small fleet of nine ships, but the mysterious Triumvirate had settled into a patient waiting mode back on Earth. They were fighting a war of attrition now, knowing that surviving vessels like Henry's fleet were slowly running out of food, fuel and water. Meanwhile, they were busy setting up some sort of new global government, more than likely enslaving or killing off any survivors who got in their way. With the fleet's supplies lower than they had ever been, the only remaining option was clear. The Admiral believed that the right thing to do would be to return to Earth and make a last stand before they lost the will and physical strength to fight.
We can at least give them a black eye, he reflected sullenly. Perhaps even two.
They were hiding in the asteroid belt that orbited the sun between Mars and Jupiter. After the initial rendezvous at Neptune, Henry had chosen the new location because there were so many asteroids. They were supposedly material left over from the natural creation of planetary bodies and ringed the sun. Trying to detect nine space vessels within all the floating debris was an impossible task, even for the Brotherhood. Henry hated the prospect of losing to them even more so because he believed them to be much more of a bully than a warrior. The only reason that they had succeeded in their plan to smash Earth and its military forces was because they had relied almost totally upon stealth and surprise. In a straight out fight, once the Lexington's computer systems had been cleared of sabotage code, the Brotherhood had lost every engagement since the initial attack.
That included the many traps that had been set within the solar system, where the Brotherhood routinely issued random distress calls and then waited for surviving ships to show up. They had picked off a precious capital vessel or two from the Admiral's small fleet over the past few months, but had suffered heavy losses in the process. His ships had traveled inward, toward those distress calls, fully expecting traps and been ready and willing to respond. Unfortunately there weren't enough military assets left in place to make a difference. No matter what he did or how violent his fleet's reprisal, there was simply no way to overcome the Brotherhood fleet and survive long enough to make any difference back on Earth.
It's time to paste them one last time and then move on to the next life, the Admiral concluded glumly.
He was interrupted by a knock on his cabin door, and the sound of it sparked him into action. Great military leaders were supposed to think things through and make informed decisions, but if he lurked in his quarters too long then his people might get the mistaken impression that he was hiding. Walking over to the door, he opened it swiftly and found himself staring into the wan, fatigued face of his Executive Officer. "You're wanted in the Command Center, Admiral," Matthew Burns informed him. "There is an unidentified ship in the area, moving directly toward us on an interception course."
"Have they launched fighters?" he asked as the two of them walked together toward the nearby lift.
"That is what is odd about this situation, sir," grunted Burns humorlessly. "The vessel is transmitting a United States ID on the proper military frequency, identifying itself as the U.S. Waywardsman."
"We don't have a vessel named Waywardsman," Henry growled in response. "At least not yet. There was someone working on the moon…"
"I know," Matt Burns told him. "You allowed me to review our classified files. I've studied our motion sensor data on the intruder, and it appears to be the right size and shape. They transmitted a message stating that they're here to offer assistance and transportation to a safe sanctuary."
"I'll believe that when I see it," seethed Henry angrily. "The Brotherhood is simply toying with us again, like a cat with a mouse."
As things turned out, the Admiral was never happier to be wrong.
After carefully locking weapons on the unknown new target and allowing the intruder to approach, they discovered that the mysterious newcomer was indeed the Waywardsman. The large exploratory vessel was under temporary command of a man named Aaron Rem, and he spent more than an hour answering their many questions. Once he finished fielding questions and had convinced Admiral Henry of his sincerity, Rem subsequently proved his claims to be true by opening a large Point-to-Point window beneath his vessel and allowing one of the military ships to travel through it. The Captain of that ship, a Lorna Phillips, returned from the brief transit with an expression on her face that wiped away the last traces of doubt. Admiral Henry found himself cheering inside as everything Rem claimed did indeed turn out to be true.
"It's absolutely unbelievable sir!" Phillips told the Admiral over fleet-Comm. "They've gathered together an entire fleet of surviving ships somewhere outside of our galaxy… a place called Bravo Point. I have no idea how they're doing it, but we were there! I've got pictures if you need to see them! Chinese, Russians, Americans, you name it… they're all out there. We even talked to a British Captain and noticed a couple of French vessels!"
The Admiral immediately glanced warily at Aaron Rem's image on his central monitor. "You left us for last?"
"Second to last, actually." He shrugged his shoulders indifferently. "Your fleet was one of the best prepared and still had food and water stores in reserve," Rem responded with a wry smile. "We're here now, aren't we? Shall we get moving before an enemy really does find you?"
Caught by surprise, something that rarely ever happened, the Admiral promptly agreed. One by one, the ships from his small fleet followed Lorna's battle-scarred destroyer through the CAS window, toward this supposedly safe Bravo Point where they would receive food and water. After that the next destination, they were told, was some sort of far-away galaxy called Proteus. Once the nine ships were safely away, Aaron Rem consulted a list of ships on the computer screen in front of him before glancing across the central ring of computer stations toward Ensign Long. "Plot a new transit to the coordinates I'm sending you," he told the young man. "We've got some stray Russian frigates to pick up yet and then we can go back home."
"What about Earth?" asked Long warily. "That's where most of the survivors will be."
"Our assignment was to locate the ships still in flight and lead them back to Proteus. You let the Captain and Noah worry about Earth," Aaron replied smugly.
Missive
UNTIL THE DAWN
Chapter XX: Missive
* * *
The Waywardsman Observatory was almost unrecognizable. Everything except for essential equipment had been shut down and all of the telescopes except one were folded up and neatly compressed into recessed ceiling storage compartments. The lights were dimmed and all the desks, computers and office equipment had been moved back against the wall near the exit hatchways. All of the windows were spread wide open and the entire room was brilliantly lit along three of the wing's edges by the colorful patterns from Poseidon's river. One window held a golden-orange swirling nebula, while a second boasted the twisting scarlet ribbons of a red giant spread so thinly that only an astronomer would know that it had once been a star. The view was magnificent as the Waywardsman once again had left behind a solid planetary surface in order to explore deep space.
Norris hadn't been by the Lab wing, but he understood that it had been prepared for their final mission much like the Observatory. Almost half the crew had packed into it in order to admire the stellar show of force by the gravity river. The rest of them were standing here with him – in the astronomical observatory from which Dr. Jillian Marcus's team had discovered so many wonders never before encountered. A little nervously he stepped up to the colorfully decorated podium that had been set up in the center of the room and tapped the microphone for attention. James was at his side, looking wonderfully adolescent in a small suit and tie that fit him perfectly. William himself wore a tuxedo complete with a black bow tie and he could not help but smile in anticipation of the night's events.
"Since the days of the first wooden sailing ships," he began, watching the happy faces surrounding him, "All Captains have enjoyed this happy privilege, that of joining together two people together in the bonds of holy matrimony." He hesitated for a few brief seconds before turning to the man standing next to him. "Unfortunately, this particular ship's Captain brought a Chaplain along with him who is fully capable of handling the occasion… and I wouldn't dream of stepping on his toes." The room filled with laughter and polite applause before a wedding march sounded in the background. Clapping politely, Captain Norris and his son moved down from the podium's platform to stand next to Greg Fredericks. Greg himself wore a tuxedo and looked as nervous as Norris had ever seen him. He even looks paler than he did after the wasteland incident, in fact.
"Welcome friends," said Dorgan warmly, extending his hands in friendship. He waited patiently as Aaron appeared from the back of the Observatory with Lieutenant Hastings at his side. Melissa's expression lit up the entire room… the cheerful face of a bride on her wedding day. Wearing a beautiful simple but elegant white wedding gown she took the arm Aaron offered her and walked slowly toward Greg. As the pair reached the front of the crowd Aaron politely stepped into position behind Norris and let Melissa take her place at Greg's side. Trey took up a position next to his brother and grinned cheerfully.
"Who offers this woman for marriage this day?" Father Dorgan asked carefully.
"I do," responded Aaron. Behind him the crowd parted again and Jillian, Cassie and Nell all stepped forward, also wearing white gowns. Each was holding a beautiful bouquet of flowers from the Garden wing and they stood quietly waiting for the proceeding to continue. Glancing at his girlfriend, Aaron noticed that Liane carefully held her bouquet slightly lower in order to discreetly hide her rounded belly and he made a silent mental note to make sure and tease her about the situation later.
"We also welcome new friends to our side this day," Dorgan grinned, waving his left hand toward the elderly man standing at the front of the crowd. Nodding with respect, the white-haired Noah stepped forward and took up a position next to Trey. It had taken some doing, but they had finally located a passenger with a tuxedo that fit him. He looked very old and wise, although he had privately indicated to Norris that he was still a spry 71 years young.
Standing beside his beloved, Greg leaned over and whispered in her ear. "How many people have the opportunity to get married on the very edge of creation?"
"Not many from our world," she whispered back to him. "Who knows? Perhaps we'll start a new tradition…"
Greg smiled excitedly at her before giving the Captain and Noah a quick nod. "Transit when ready!" he told them with delight, watching Noah activate an electrical device that was attached to an armband on his sleeve. All around them, the windows lit up with an unusually bright green Point-to-Point flash and suddenly all of the brilliant color was gone. Surrounding them was the complete, empty blackness of space without even a single star to add to the dimly lit room. There were some minor "oohs" and "ahhs" from the crowd but not the reaction that everyone had expected.
"I guess we were hoping for a little more than simple darkness," Father Dorgan said with a smile and a shrug. Noah walked up onto the platform and took his place beside the Chaplain.
"Currently the systems on my shuttle have placed the Waywardsman precisely one hundred meters behind the inner edge of the blast wave from the Big-Bang explosion that created our universe," he stated informatively. "We are still moving along with it at what you would call 1.0c, or the speed of light, in order to keep up."
"One hundred… meters?" someone in the crowd gasped in surprise.
"Yes, and now we transit yet again…" Noah said, touching his armband computer once more and causing another familiar PTP flash to briefly light up the room. This time, however, the windows were suddenly filled with a brilliant swirling vortex of deep blue mist that rapidly shifted in hue as it collided with the ship's hull. Tiny electrically-charged particles of bright white light glowed and danced within the fog-like atmosphere causing everyone in the crowd to react much more enthusiastically this time. There was a deep feeling of awe that circulated around the room, followed by applause and loud cheers of approval.
"It looks like fireworks except that they're everywhere," Norris heard James whisper with his usual youthful zeal.
"We're now inside the blast wave itself," continued Noah. "This is all that is left of that densely packed matter that exploded so long ago. Back on Earth you won't see the outer galaxies and star clusters, like Proteus, when your telescopes pick up the light waves from this distance. Because, my friends, by the time that light reaches Earth the matter you can currently see reacting with my shuttle's energy field is almost as old as time itself. What little light telescopes can detect from this particular point in space clearly shows these dwindling clouds of matter… constantly spreading themselves thinner and thinner until gravity can begin its long process of sculpting them into the more familiar galactic objects that you're used to seeing in the neighborhood of your Milky Way home." As the crowd applauded with approval, Noah stepped politely aside and returned control of the floor to Father Dorgan.
