| |
Admiral (Ret.) Claude M. Hooker sat comfortably on the high grass of the bank, eyeing the fishing line running from his pole into the green water of the lake. Slowly at first, then ever so slightly faster it began to grow tight.
Suddenly it tightened so fast the water rippled, and the line started moving sideways. He jerked back on the rod to set the hook. He felt the resistance as he pulled. There was no feeling like it, on Earth or here, he thought, reeling faster.
But the bass he thought he had didn’t jump, and he soon was sitting with a catfish on the bank with him.
“You aren’t what I was looking for,” he said to it. It made catfish noises back at him as he removed the hook and tossed it back into the lake. He checked his artificial worm and it was chewed up pretty bad. He regarded the sun in the sky, now quite visible over the trees on the far bank. Alpha Centauri was the only sun up yet.
“That’s enough fun for this morning, boys,” he said to the fish within hearing distance. “I’ll catch you later. It’s bacon and eggs for me today.”
He laughed at his own joke, stood, and started walking back down the path toward the old house. As he walked he considered again where he was and what he was doing and what had just happened. This very Earth-like planet, suitable for but almost devoid of all life, was now his home. His and Sara’s, though she was away on another expedition.
She was helping the old Restan Taland try to uncover the secret of how his species came to be on Restas. It was no secret to Hooker, however. Just as humans had brought animals, including catfish and bass, even the grass and trees, to this planet, so had some ancient aliens brought Taland’s race of Sabretoothed cats to Restas thousands of years earlier.
Of course humans hadn’t genetically modified any of the species they had transplanted to become intelligent and have opposing thumbs, as someone had obviously done to the Sabretooths!
Still it was a simple answer, but leave it to Sara and Taland, both scientists, to as usual study the subject to death.
As he walked the light from a smaller sun burst through the trees on the horizon. Actually it was more like a very bright star, only bright enough to be visible during the daytime because of its proximity.
Now topping the last hill between the lake and his cabin, he could plainly see the city of ruins in the distance. Though he had seen them many times, even of course wandered among their ruined walls, he still always stopped to stare. He squinted, trying to imagine the race which built them, and how they must have appeared in the days before the attack? He always expected to see some creature, some alien from long ago, step out from them and wave at him.
Not all aliens waved, of course.
He had been many places, seen many things. He had traveled through space at multiple times the speed of light. He had encountered an alien species and helped to broker an alliance with them. He had even spent time as the first human ambassador to Restas.
But these ruins always made him pause, as if some spirit of some long-dead inhabitant was reaching out to his mind, trying to tell him their side of the story.
And perhaps to warn him?
He moved on down the hill toward the old house, itself a transplant from Earth in the days before enough trees were growing here again to supply the wood which Sara preferred.
Now he could see the house, and the surprising sight of a shuttle craft settled on the ground in front of it. He wasn’t expecting any visitors, having told everyone he was busy on his book. So who dared to disturb him?
Half angry, he continued on down the hill, now walking toward the shuttle instead of his front door. A young man in a lieutenant’s uniform appeared in the open doorway.
“Admiral!” he shouted, hurrying down the extended walkway.
“What’s going on?” Hooker asked, not trying to hide his perturbed tone.
“Uh, oh, sorry to bother you, Admiral,” he said as he stopped in front of him and saluted. “I’m Lieutenant Haviland from the Star-Guardian Titan, sir.”
“Titan? I didn’t even know it was in our area. And stop calling me ‘sir’ and saluting, I’m retired you know.”
“Sorry,” Haviland said, though he didn’t look sorry. Hooker had seen the expression he wore so many times, the “I have an urgent message for you” look. He glanced over to the shuttle, and sure enough, Titan I was embossed on its side. That meant not only was it from the newest Star-Guardian in the fleet, but it was the captain’s personal shuttle as well.
“What’s your captain’s name?”
“Dyer, sir. I mean, Admiral.”
This gave Hooker the second shock of this young day. “Dyer? Jonathan Dyer? Can’t be, he commands the Ambassador.”
“Not any more, Admiral. He was transferred. Uh, Admiral, the reason I’m here is Captain Dyer wants you to accompany me to the Titan as quickly as possible. He has orders to take you back to Lunar Command immediately.”
Anger flashed across Hooker’s face. But he quickly realized something must be very, very wrong. Had the peace treaty with the Restans, the one he had devoted so many years to make work, fallen apart?
“All right, I’ll come with you. But first give it to me straight. What’s happened?”
“Some unidentified ships have attacked a convoy in the Tau Ceti sector.”
Hooker frowned. “But what of the Star-Guardians on station there? Weren’t they able to engage them in time?”
“Yes, unfortunately two did engage. The Mars was destroyed and the Jupiter heavily damaged. Now will you please come...”
Haviland didn’t have to finish the request, for Hooker had already started walking briskly toward the house. There he dropped his fishing gear, the tools of retirement, on the front porch, and hurried inside to gather up what he would need to take with him.
Barely an hour later, the shuttle nestled lightly onto the deck of the Titan. The protective doors of the hangar slid shut, but not too smoothly, with a slight clang when they met. Hooker looked at them. Evidently this brand new ship still had some kinks to work out.
As Hooker stepped onto the deck he could feel what only a very experienced space traveler could. The ship was accelerating rapidly, even the powerful gravity drive straining. He looked at Haviland who didn’t react, either because he was trained not to or hadn’t developed that feel for his ship yet.
Captain Dyer appeared as they walked toward the elevators.
“Admiral, it’s good to see you. I only wish I was joining you for a little fishing instead of asking you to come with me.”
“Jonathan, just what the hell is this all about?”
Dyer shot an irritated look at Haviland. “Didn’t you brief the admiral?”
“He did,” Hooker interrupted. “But I’m sure you have more to tell me by now.”
Dyer nodded and they stepped onto the elevator car, which didn’t just elevate but also made a couple or horizontal moves before the doors opened at Dyer’s personal cabin.
“Please come in Admiral.”
Hooker looked around. “I see the new Star-Guardians have definite upgrades to the captain’s quarters.” He found a chair by the desk and sat down.
Looking up he was shocked to see Dyer offering him a drink. “What the?”
“What does it look like? Don’t tell me you’ve quit the stuff?”
“Hell no! It just that I thought you didn’t approve of me having it on board a ship.”
“Your impression was correct. However, common courtesy dictates we captains have a well-stocked bar for entertaining important people. That would certainly include retired admirals and ambassadors.”
“I’m not arguing,” Hooker said, taking the glass. “Not bad stuff, for a tea drinker you have pretty good taste. Now tell me when did you take over this ship?”
Dyer sat down facing Hooker across his desk. “About a week ago, I think. Haven’t gotten much sleep so seems much longer. And they didn’t give me a choice. After the debacle at Tau Ceti they argued I would be more valuable here than on the Ambassador.”
“Perhaps this time they are right. Sounds like this new batch of aliens isn’t interested in talking. So who’s in charge of the Ambassador? Talbot?”
Dyer just stared, causing Hooker to sit up and slam his glass down on the desk. “Don’t tell me they are refitting the Ambassador!”
“What? Oh no, though they might. I don’t know how to tell you this to make it any easier, but Tallie had been promoted to captain of the Mars.”
“Well, she’s very capable, so that’s great...wait...”
Dyer nodded.
Hooker’s mind raced back to what Haviland had told him. Eight-five percent casualties...
“Is there?”
Dyer shook his head, eyes down. “No. No word. No sign. I’m sorry,” he offered weakly. “A couple of life craft were missing, so some of the crew got off. And she wasn’t among the remains, but...”
He left unfinished what they both knew. Particle beam weapons were very good at completely vaporizing anything they met.