The weapon, p.18
The Weapon, page 18
part #1 of Star Fighters Series
“As long as it doesn’t violate the laws of physics,” said Leah.
“Right. Well…as long as we get those laws right” said Philips. “If we find a case where a law is violated, then that means we got the law wrong.”
Leah nodded.
“How much of the team net computing power have you utilized for your analysis?” asked Philips.
“It didn’t take much, actually,” Leah replied. “Minimal at best.”
“Good. When we recover the device – what are we calling it now – the cosmic pencil?” said Philips, “I want you to run the analysis using full integration mode. I am sure, I am betting sure, that there are small variables that are not the same as those in Sol system.”
“You’re probably right,” said Leah. “We’ll have more data to crunch once we land on that planet.”
“I’m right,” said Philips. “You’ll see.”
“I hope you are,” said Leah.
“Yeah, well, me too,” replied Philips.
--
Less than two hours later the three Star Fighters entered orbit around the third planet from the local star.
From orbit, it looked very much like earth, minus the lights, the straight, orderly lines, the pollution and massive structures jutting out of its surface, reaching skyward into the darkness of space.
“I’m setting orbital parameters for total surface coverage. I want our sensors to record data from every square inch of that planet. We’ll make several passes before we head for the surface.”
The three pilots sat cocooned in their Star Fighters, separated from each other by hundreds of yards and the vacuum of space, yet they all felt like they were in the same room with each other, in close enough proximity to hear their breathing or observe an errant twitch of a finger.
As they allowed the craft to record using their passive sensors, they each settled in and used their interfaces to expand their awareness out from their ships and down to the surface below. It was a unique sensation, very personal and intimate, which also helped color the data with unique insights not possible with conventional sensors packages or AI suites.
Leah was the first to sense it. An errant thought. A whisper in her consciousness. A desire to share. Ideas, feelings, emotions.
Wheeler sensed it too, although his experience was not like Leah’s. He caught glimpses of far off battles. Felt the burden of command. Listened to slivers of thoughts on strategy.
Philips didn’t sense anything other than the planet itself. To him, there were no thoughts beyond his own and those of his fellow Star Fighters. But the planet had a story to tell, through the data it revealed to his senses, enhanced and integrated as they were with the orbiting Star Fighters.
Seconds turned to moments, that turned to minutes, that turned to hours. The Star Fighters had trouble disengaging from their experiences, until their respective AIs realized that something was wrong - their human partners were stuck, their human awareness having reached out across thousands of miles of space and planet, were unable to return home. So, the AIs did the only thing they could do to protect their operators – they severed the sensor links, and the three humans were back in their Star Fighters, alert, aware and unharmed.
“What just happened?” asked Wheeler.
“We made contact with someone,” said Leah.
“Someone? I couldn’t stop exploring that planet,” said Philips. “I didn’t see anyone though. Just facts, figures, sensations…”
“Someone, or something, engaged with all of us,” said Leah. “Look at all the data the computer’s have amassed. Look at the chronometers. We’ve been at it for hours.”
“Barely noticed the time,” said Philips. “It went by so fast but seemed like it took forever.”
“Do we land?” asked Leah. “Or return to base and analyze all this information?”
“Linked up we have more than enough computing power to tear that data apart,” said Philips. “No need to go back. The question is do we want to land? Leah, seems like you’ve got some reservations about this.”
Leah nodded. “I do. It’s not fear. I’m just hesitant, given what we don’t know about what’s going on down there.”
“Wheeler?” asked Philips. “What do you think?”
“I’m a military man,” said Wheeler. “All my life, I’ve gone into places where others didn’t dare. I’d prefer to find out more about this place too, but I think the only way to do that is to go down and see for ourselves.”
“OK. Here’s what we’ll do. I selected each of you for a reason. So far, my decision has paid off in spades. Wheeler, you and I will go to the surface and look around. Leah, I want you to stay up here in orbit. Use the AI links to analyze the new data we collected. And keep a close eye on us. If we get into trouble, you’ll be our lifeline out.”
“Understood,” said Leah.
“Agreed,” said Wheeler.
“OK then,” said Philips. “I’m disengaging the pilot team net. Wheeler follow me down on the coordinates I’m transmitting to you. Leah, hopefully we’ll see you soon.”
“Hopefully,” repeated Leah. “You two stay out of trouble!”
“You know I will,” said Wheeler, a big smile on his face. “It’s the hotshot pilot I’m worried about.”
--
Philips and Wheeler set down their Star Fighters in a valley lush with green vegetation. A small lake was situated to the right of the landing zone, and tall mountains stretched high into the blue sky beyond.
They had selected the landing area based on Leah’s initial analysis, which indicated the nearby presence of a non-random energy source, with output and concentration greater than any known naturally occurring planetary phenomenon.
“You think it could be the cosmic pencil?” asked Philips.
“Right now, I have no idea,” replied Leah. “But whatever it is, it is unusual and not something you would expect coming from a planet like this. No industry. No civilization.”
“Air is breathable. Exactly like earth,” said Wheeler. “I’m going outside.”
“Following you out,” said Philips. “Leah, we’re exiting the Star Fighters. Beacons are on. Confirming that you have eyes on us.”
“I see you,” said Leah. “Good luck.
Wheeler began putting on his Mech Assault Combat Suit on the moment he stepped off his Star Fighter. He had practiced this so much that he had the armor on in under thirty seconds and system checks completed in another fifteen.
He slung a XK-10 high-powered projectile pistol to his right hip and a plasma blaster on his left. He fished a Mark 7 assault plasma rifle out of the Star Fighter’s storage compartment and slung it over his shoulder. A belt full of frag grenades rounded out the ensemble.
“Going to war?” asked Philips, as he eyed Wheeler’s get up.
“Aren’t you?” replied Wheeler. “Suit up lad. You don’t want to be on the wrong end of someone’s temper tantrum. If you need any weapons, I’ve got plenty to spare in my fighter.”
“I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve,” said Philips. He took several minutes to put on his own armor, a lighter version of Wheeler’s, built with less bulk but more speed.
He strapped a G20 fast action projectile pistole to his left him, a handheld mag gun to his right and strapped a small plasma blaster to his chest.
“A G20!” said Wheeler. “Good choice. Almost as powerful as my XK-10. Not sure if I’d trust my safety to a mag gun though.”
“The G20 is faster than the XK-10,” replied Philips. “It’ll get the job done. As for the mag gun – well I like that I can use it to accelerate anything to projectile speed if I run out of ammo.”
“Only if they have magnetic properties lad,” said Wheeler. And the acceleration curve drops sharply if your rounds don’t have enough metalics in them.”
“That’s why I carry this,” Philips said, holding up a small canister. “One coating of this stuff turns anything large enough to fit the barrel hole into a nice little bullet.”
“Infinite ammo is how they used to market those things to us,” said Wheeler. “We never liked them in the field.”
“They’re useful in a pinch,” said Philips.
“As you say,” replied Wheeler. Looking at his instrument panel, he said “the energy source is coming from that direction. I’m reading it as seven miles.”
“Lead the way Master Sergeant,” said Philips.
--
Hiking through the valley reminded Philips of a time when he and his father would go camping in the woods near the family’s homestead. He’d learned a lot from his father, especially about surviving in the outdoors without communications nor technology used to light fires or lead them to safely when lost.
His father had been an avid outdoorsmen, and his mother had also been raised on a farm, which meant that young Sam had exposure to what urbanites called a ‘natural lifestyle’ in contrast to many of his schoolmates, who grew up in large, industrial cities and were never far from their technological conveniences.
He didn’t go around telling people much about his upbringing, and a lot of those who didn’t know him personally just assumed that he had been a lifelong urbanite who would never survive five minutes away from the comforts of modern civilization.
Wheeler, however, knew better.
“Bet this feels a lot like home,” said Wheeler, as they climbed up a short hill with grass as tall as their chests.
“Yeah, it does,” replied Philips. “Only this place is wilder. More primitive. The plants here look like they are straight out of my pre-history books. Feels like we should be waiting for a dinosaur to round the next corner.”
“No dinosaurs here,” said Wheeler. “Leah confirmed no signs of large animals. Maybe a giant mosquito will come and give you a big kiss.”
“Gian insects!” exclaimed Philips. “Lovely thoughts.”
“How are you holding up lad,” said Wheeler. “Tired yet?
“Nope. I can go for hours like this,” said Philips.
“Good! Because we’ve got four more miles to go. The rest of the way is going to be over much less forgiving terrain. Pick up the pace young man!”
“Wait,” said Philips, flashing a hand signal to Wheeler to take cover. “I don’t think we’re going anywhere just yet” he said, as he dropped to the floor a half second after Wheeler.
“What do you see,” asked Wheeler.
“Two men. Gray robes. Armed. Passing you their coordinates,” said Philips.
Wheeler took a moment to check the information via his data links.
“They’re over three miles away. How did you see them – how did you see them in this overgrown forest?” asked Wheeler. “I completely missed them.”
“LOE,” replied Philips. “A level one enhancer,”
“You’ve been holding back on us” said Wheeler, pretending his feelings were hurt. “Where did you get it?”
“Doctor Mendelsohn,” replied Philips. “He’s a good friend. I told him I was going on a mission and needed to bring along some advantages. He gave me the enhancer.”
“So, your level one implants are the same as level twos,” said Wheeler.
“For some things, not everything. I don’t have’s intelligence or mental speed, for example.”
“That much is obvious,” joked Wheeler.
“And you don’t have her looks,” jostled Philips. “But the LOE does give me level two vision. I can spot a man-sized object from a few miles away, even in this tangle of green.”
“Regards to the doctor,” said Wheeler. “Now, what do we do about those two guys? Take them out? Capture them as prisoners? Or do we talk?”
“I’m in favor of talking,” said Philips. “We don’t know who they are or what their intentions are. They could be allies, or potential allies.”
“I would have preferred to neutralize them from a distance,” said Wheeler.
“Neutralize from a distance?” repeated Philips. “That doesn’t sound very honorable to me.”
“It’s not honorable,” said Wheeler. “It’s just practical. I am not proposing killing them. Only neutralizing them, until we are done here. Keep them out of our way – for their safety, and for ours.”
“Let’s keep that option in our back pocket,” said Philips. “If it comes to that, go ahead and neutralize them. But let me try talking to them first.”
Wheeler nodded. “That’s fine. Let’s see what those gents over there have to say for themselves.”
Chapter 18
Philips and Wheeler cautiously made their way to where the two men were located. As they got closer it became apparent that the two had set up camp, sitting on the ground idly chatting with each other. They seemed oblivious to the fact that they had visitors.
Philips motioned for Wheeler to hang back and keep out of sight, while he retracted his helmet back into his armor’s collar and walked purposefully towards the small campsite. He tried to make as much noise as possible and shouted “hello!” once he got within earshot of the two men.
The first thing Philips noticed was that both men were human. They wore gray robes over what looked like ordinary civilian clothing and did not appear armed.
The two men stood up but did not approach Philips.
When Philips got to within ten feet of the men, one of them asked, “have you received the calling?”
Unsure how to respond, Philips replied “we are all called.” It just felt like the right thing to say.
“Not all,” said the man. “But I do like your optimistic view. “My name is Mathew.”
“I’m Sam.”
Mathew bowed slightly and said, “a pleasure to meet you.” Gesturing to his associate, he said “this is Hale, my mentor.”
Philips nodded to both men.
Eying Philips’ armor and weapons, Hale said “are you expecting trouble?”
“What? This?” said Philips, gesturing to his armor. “I always wear this when visiting a new planet. You never know.”
“Only those who do know are called to this place,” said Hale. “Who called you?”
“Well, gentleman,” said Philips. “To tell the truth, no one called me. I was sent here.”
“Very few know of this place,” said Mathew. “Who sent you here?”
Before answering, he paused to listen to an incoming message from Wheeler.
“Mathew!” said Philips. “I knew you looked familiar the moment I saw you. You’re Mathew Shinakoa!”
“The one and the same,” said Mathew. “How do you know me.”
“You were to meet with captain Rutledge on Celeste station,” replied Philips.
“Ah yes,” said Mathew. “You were sent here by Rutledge then.”
“I was,” said Philips. “You missed your meeting. We were wondering what happened to you. Funny to find you out here, so far from Celeste.”
“Even funnier that you tracked me here,” said Mathew. “Hale. Our visitor here is an Inner Worlds agent. He has most assuredly not been called.”
Philips began drawing his plasma blaster the instant he saw Hale shift his right hand to manipulate a bracelet on his left wrist.
“Don’t!” shouted Philips, quickly leveling his gun on Hale.
Philips had always been a fast draw, but his speed meant nothing this time.
A split second after he raised his weapon, he felt a flash of heat before his body became immobilized in an invisible field. He tried to fire his gun, still aimed in Hale’s general direction, but movement was impossible.
“Someone who had been called would not have raised their weapon on a mentor,” said Mathew. “Don’t despair Sam. The Order is kind. I was once like you. I even admired captain Rutledge. But Hale and the others eventually showed me a better way, and I left that life behind. If the Order will have you, you’ll follow in my footsteps.”
“Wheeler can you see this?” asked Philips. He had left his comm open, so communications should still be possible.
“Affirmative,” said Wheeler. “Can you move at all?”
“No. I can move my eyes around…talk, move my head…that’s it.”
“Hang on. I’m circling these guys, see if I can get the drop on them from the other side.”
“Be careful,” said Philips. “I think there’s more of them.”
“Gotcha kid. Hang on.”
--
Wheeler carefully backed away so he could put additional distance between himself and those two men. After immobilizing Philips, they sat back down and resumed their casual conversation. Philips had left his comm open and he could hear snippets of their conversation. They were talking about the weather, travel plans, and religious philosophy.
Order of Orion, Wheeler thought. Had to be.
So, they had gotten here first and were either looking for the cosmic pencil or had already secured it.
Wheeler considered backtracking to where they had landed their Star Fighters but decided that would take too long and might reveal the position of their fighters – and he didn’t want the Order to get their hands on them.
He tried radioing Leah, but she didn’t answer. Either she had run into trouble in orbit – perhaps the Order had space assets nearby that they missed – or they had activated a screen that blocked their attempts to communicate.
About ten minutes later Wheeler was in his new position and had a good view of the camp. He could see Philips clearly enough. He remained immobilized but was otherwise fine.
Two men hadn’t moved and didn’t appear concerned at all. They remained lost in their conversation, and never bothered to look around or re-evaluate their positions.
These guys can’t be military, thought Wheeler. The only thing that made them dangerous was that device on Hale’s wrist. Even Mathew, who was a trained operative, was oddly complacent. Perhaps the Order beat tactics and field logic out of the man. That was fine by Wheeler – the less paranoid they are, the better.
Wheeler used his helmet’s heads-up-display to analyze the space between the camp and his location. He used the onboard computer to calculate the quickest path that would make the least noise while maximizing his cover. He could have done that himself, but the suit did the work faster, and he could use his judgement to decide which option would work best for him.
