Galaxy Awakening E-Book

Philip A. Hibberd

• Herausgeber: novum pro Verlag
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 620

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

Five thousand years after the destruction of Earth, Damian Drake is found by the crew of the Griffin in a life capsule on a distant asteroid field. His mind has survived but his body destroyed. The Med team rebuild him and he is befriended by the elderly Comm and Senior Nurse Onslow. As Damian and Comm journey into his subconscious memory they discover the 10 statues, one of which is a replica of Damian. But was he - or the others - really responsible for the deaths of billions? And who is the elusive 'O'? Using historical data, Comm returns Damian to witness the destruction of Earth, the rise of the powerful Houses and the creation of enhanced humans - while events on the Griffin prove challenging for Damian, the Captain and her crew in the shadow of the all-powerful Command.

Leseprobe

Contents

Imprint 3

Chapter 1 - Arrival 4

Chapter 2 - Isle in the Tropics 8

Chapter 3 - Pyramid of evil 25

Chapter 4 - Distant pasts 30

Chapter 5 - Sandy who? 42

Chapter 6 - Chandra and Kowaski 52

Chapter 7 - Griffin 67

Chapter 8 - Juliana Contessa 75

Chapter 9 - Level 11 86

Chapter 10 - Memory within 93

Chapter 11 - Reunion 101

Chapter 12 - Capsule 108

Chapter 13 - Island revisited 113

Chapter 14 - Glass caverns 131

Chapter 15 - Enrolment 138

Chapter 16 - Sub hanger 6 146

Chapter 17 - Mars Prime 154

Chapter 18 - Capsule and the worm 165

Chapter 19 - Module 1 169

Chapter 20 - The lie 177

Chapter 21 - The Field 190

Chapter 22 - Prime finder 204

Chapter 23 - Comm’s place 211

Chapter 24 - Modules 218

Chapter 25 - 11 for all 225

Chapter 26 - 11 237

Chapter 27 - Elusive ‘O’ 242

Chapter 28 - Realm within realm 247

Chapter 29 - Heavy lift 2 261

Chapter 30 - Captain’s quarters 273

Chapter 31 - Missions end 286

Chapter 32 - Conduit 292

Chapter 33 - Departure 298

Chapter 34 - Wu Quan 303

Chapter 35 - Planet of enhancement 321

Chapter 36 - The alternate theory 333

Chapter 37 - The trap 344

Chapter 38 - Quanton falls 350

Chapter 39 - Command 357

Chapter 40 - Oric 369

Epilogue 1 378

Epilogue 2 379

Imprint

All rights of distribution, also through movies, radio and television, photomechanical reproduction, sound carrier, electronic medium and reprinting in excerpts are reserved.

© 2022 novum publishing

ISBN print edition: 978-3-99131-212-3

ISBN e-book: 978-3-99131-213-0

Editor: Roderick Pritchard-Smith, M.Litt

Cover images:Alexandr Mitiuc, Nuttawut Uttamaharad, Martijn Mulder | Dreamstime.com

Cover design, layout & typesetting:novum publishing

www.novum-publishing.co.uk

Chapter 1 - Arrival

Consciousness awoke within a dark shroud. A blackness that was void of light surrounded him, infinite silence within this dark realm, deafened. He felt as though he were floating inside an enclosed room, no light, no sound and – as he discovered – no feeling. He was numb, paralysed to all senses, and yet, he knew he was alive.

Slowly, the darkness gave way to a lighter shade of black, darker greys now flickered and merged, lighter greys swam within the mix, like sunlight clawing its way through a dark foggy dawn. Pale distant colours emerged from the greys. However, he felt nothing, just a spectator with no apparent emotion.

Sight was returning to him, a myriad of colours exploded silently before him, still, he could feel nothing, no fear, no panic, just … nothing.

He knew that his eyes were open, but he could not focus on the images in front of him, dark grey shapes mingled with pastel blues, yellows, greens and reds, a dark shadowy shape moved across the confusion of colours, it lurched from his right to the centre then seemed to turn towards him. It hesitated for a moment and then loomed nearer to him, it was close and seemed to sway one way then another before retreating into the now solid pastel colours.

The absence of sound, should, he thought, be un-nerving, but he felt relaxed and at ease with the situation unfolding in front of him. He let his mind wonder, far away from the dancing images. How did he get here? He could not remember, where was he. That, was also a mystery.

Who was he? For a second that panicked him, he had no idea who he was, or, where he had come from. He felt the panic swell into his being, it took a hold of him, he wanted to scream, then, as soon as the panic washed through him it was smoothed away and he felt calm and relaxed, floating within the constant blooming of colours and greys.

The dark shape he noticed, seemed to move quicker from one side of his vision to the other, it broke away from the myriad of pastel colours and once again loomed towards him. He watched unconcerned as it came closer.

It stayed longer this time, then he felt something, a touch, gentle and soothing, and then without warning, a noise, it came to him from far away, a mixture of soft sounds entered his hearing, in the distance, various pitches of humming, a melodic sound harmonising at the edge of his senses.

For a while he listened, and his mind followed its hypnotic throws as it moved from one melody to another. Above this were more sounds, more blocks of sound. One close by was deep, another further away higher pitched. Was this language? He wasn’t sure but he determined that there were three separate pitches of sound, the third far away. Of course, he thought, three separate people were in the room with him, talking. They were the dark shapes that moved from one side of his vision to the other. He concentrated on the noise, trying to break it down into words, but could not.

A shape loomed towards him again and a block of noise, deep and authoritative filled his hearing, but he could make no sense of it. Once more he felt the soothing touch on ears, forehead and temples and another block of sound entered his hearing, not just one noise this time but small particles of sound, some with inclined pitch. ‘Words’, he thought, ‘I can hear words. I don’t understand them, but they are definitely words.’

The dark grey shape moved away from him into the blurred regions of the pastel colours. Another shape moved to the same position and he heard the language being spoken again, one deep, almost guttural voice, the other softer, higher pitched. ‘Male and female’, he thought. One grey shape moved away and came back towards him. He felt the gentle touch upon his temples again, a shivering feeling washed through him, not unpleasant, not unpleasant at all. ‘Almost sexual’, he thought. He bathed in the sensation, feeling light and calm. Then he heard a noise. Not heard exactly, more sensed.

‘Barralama ka delim derom. ‘Words’, he thought. Separated from each other. ‘Syllables’, he exclaimed to himself. Definitely syllables, it was definitely a language, but the words held no meaning to him.

Again, a soothing sensation flowed through his mind, the shape moved slightly to one side.

‘Barralama to hear derom’, the deep voice whispered.

He concentrated. He had heard something that made some sort of sense. He tried to speak but could not. The shape moved back slightly and said something that again, he could not comprehend, a second grey shape appeared to his right side. They were both leaning over him, and again he was awash with a soothing, relaxing feeling.

‘Are you able to hear what I say, close your eyes if you do,’ he felt the relief cascade through his mind. ‘Yes’, he thought. ‘I can understand’. He closed his eyes.

‘Good …’ said the deeper voice, almost in triumph. The shape leaned over his field of vision to the shape at his left-hand side. A conversation in muted tones passed between them. He could not make out its content. The shape then turned to him.

‘Listen carefully, for now, you cannot move or talk. You are in need of a lot of,’ he paused, the smaller shape leant towards the larger, whispered voices were exchanged.

‘Restoration work,’ the deeper voice said hesitantly.

‘You are …, in a very bad …” the voice stopped. He then heard a deep sigh.

‘I am so sorry, but you are not in the best of shapes, I and my team are confident that we can bring you through this. I am Doctor Ghorbany, you are in my medical centre. We are on the Stella ship ‘Griffin’, we found you in a life pod canister. We are doing everything we can, but …’ his voice trailed away, and the sigh within the ‘but’ spoke volumes.

‘In the meantime, I am passing you over for psychiatric assessment: You will be linked with the Griffin’s Med-Comm system. Do you understand? Blink if you do.’ He had no idea what the Griffin was, a star ship, maybe, but what type of ship, a battle ship, a science ship, he didn’t know. ‘Am I crew, passenger or captive? Life pod canister’, he thought, but no recollection came to him. And what was a Med -Comm system? It all meant nothing to him. Again, he tried to talk but found he couldn’t. He closed his eyes, then reopened them.

He didn’t fully understand what psychiatric assessment meant either, but the fact was that he was obviously in no condition to argue.

The pastel colours around him swirled and converged back to various shades of grey, he noticed they were now spiralling around him creating a tunnel of dark and light. He felt no sensation of movement, although the vision before him gave him the impression of falling.

Then, without warning, the grey dissipated, all he could see now was unbroken blue, and warmth, he could feel warmth.

Chapter 2 - Isle in the Tropics

A warm breeze ruffled his hair and he could smell the sea salt within it. He looked out over a turquoise lagoon, the white breakers exploding onto the white fine sand that he lay upon. The sky above was an unbroken blue from horizon to horizon. Behind him, some hundred metres away, the shoreline swayed with green palms. Above these, towered a large volcano, its steep sides rising to a smoking plateau.

‘Hello.’ He turned in the direction of the voice. An elderly man in his seventies, maybe eighties was walking down the beach towards him. He wore a white floppy hat that covered his snow-white hair, which was long, pulled back and tied and hanging to his shoulders. He wore a faded blue shirt with sleeves rolled up to his elbows and white shorts. His feet were bare, his skin weathered and tanned.

‘I’m Comm,’ he said cheerfully, as he leant down and held out his hand.

From his laying position, he reached out and took the offered hand and was amazed at the strength held within it. With ease Comm pulled him to his feet.

‘I’m …’ he hesitated.

‘I’m not sure who I am,’ he said slowly. He delved into his memory, and found nothing. He was starting to feel anger and frustration, but the overriding feeling, was fear.

The old man gently put his arm around his shoulders and led him across the sand towards the palm trees.

‘That’s what we are here for, to find out all about you, and …’ he said with a smile on his weathered face. ‘Until we do, I’ll call you … Sandy,’

He turned to the older man puzzled.

‘Why Sandy.’

The old man grinned, showing perfect white teeth.

‘Well, it’s pretty obvious really. You’re covered in it.’

The younger man stopped and looked down at himself, Comm chuckled as he walked on towards the palms. He was covered head to foot in a layer of fine white sand. He brushed it away as best he could, then ran to catch up to the old man.

At the tree line, he noticed a break in the palms, and in the shade a beach bar made of bamboo and wicker. In front, two wicker stools on which they each took a seat and considered each other. Comm seemed to have a permanent knowing smile, his face showing patience in abundance. He, on the other hand, although tall with long unkempt fair hair, wearing a white singlet and white shorts, looked nervous and unsure.

‘We seem to have a bar with no bartender,’ the younger man said, just to break the silence.

‘Oh, I’m sure one will be here soon,’ Comm said smoothly.

‘After all, you do have quite a vivid imagination,’ he said panning his hand across the vista. Sandy followed this indication, taking in the trees, the sand and the turquoise sea.

‘Me, oh no, this is your world, not mine.’

‘I can assure you, Sandy, if this was my virtual world, it would be completely empty. It may, however, be pale green or blue, and there would be two comfortable chairs facing each other, maybe a table between them. No distractions you see, but this, actually, I like it, and it’s all from your subconscious, not from me at all. The reason I like it, is, this is your inner being yelling out at you. All we have to do, is decipher it.’

A noise behind the bar made them both turn in their seats, a two-metre-tall praying mantis unfolded itself and began cleaning glasses.

‘Hm, a lot of deciphering.’ Comm said with a chuckle. He leant forward towards the mantis:

‘A large Callina, please.’ The mantis grabbed a hold of various bottles beneath the counter and with dextrous ease poured the drink and offered it to the smiling Comm.

He took a sip and held the liquid in his mouth before swallowing.

‘Oh yes, I like your world very much, far better than anything I could come up with.’ He put the glass on the bar top and leant back on his stool.

Sandy wasn’t sure of the mantis, but slowly asked for his drink.

‘Apple juice, please’. He watched the intricate dance of limbs and Fore-legs and soon, a glass of iced apple juice in a tall glass stood before him. His work done, the Mantis reverted his attention to cleaning glasses. Sandy looked at Comm’s drink with fascination: The liquid within had started clear, but now as he looked on, swirls of colour exploded within the glass.

‘What is that?’ he asked, transfixed on the glass.

‘A drink from a miner’s outpost, the fifth planet of Tau Ceti.’ Comm picked up the glass and took another sip.

‘The flavours explode onto your pallet,’ he continued.

‘It looks fantastic, I might try one next.’

Comm studied the young creature that sat before him, humanisque, definitely, he thought, but so different from the bi-pedal human creatures he had worked with on the Griffin. Something was different, a difference he could not quite define, but, early days, he had been given almost indefinite time, this young human was important.

He thought on that, why did the medical team think he was important, who had told them that he was? Curious, he thought. Smiling, Comm leant forward and said, ‘I have never seen a creature quite like that,’ moving his gaze to the creature cleaning a tall glass.

‘Oh, don’t get me wrong, I know I don’t get out much, being the ship’s Com-link, but I have looked in every historical file, not only the Griffin’s, but Command files too, nothing, absolutely nothing comes close to it, and this scenario, it’s very nice, but what is it, and your accent, I don’t think I’ve heard that accent before, in fact, the medical team did have a problem in getting you to understand our dialect, and I have quite a large data base,’ his eyes sparkled waiting for new information. Sandy sipped his juice, and gave a puzzled look.

‘It’s a praying mantis,’ he said watching the creature remove glasses from the back shelf, and then with the intricacies of its forelegs shine the glasses crystal clean.

He smiled, feeling no threat from such a large predator that stood less than a metre away.

‘It’s not meant to be that big, mostly they are about 5 to 10 centimetres long, and they certainly don’t do bar work … well, maybe they do here, they are known, or, the female is known to devour the male after mating.’ Comm’s eyebrows lifted, he turned to look at the mantis who was still busy cleaning glasses.

‘I think we will be quite safe; I can’t see us doing any of that’, Sandy said. He leant back on his stool and chuckled.

‘And this,’ the older man cast his arm wide, Sandy looked around at the tropical scene, he turned to Comm, and smiling, said.

‘Is a typical tropical island, complete with volcano, and you asked about my accent, I’m sorry, I can’t explain that, it’s just the way I talk’ Comm regarded the young man carefully. He was relaxed and open, it was now time to probe.

‘But, from where, what planet?’ he asked, and thought that that was a good opening. Sandy slumped down into his stool.

‘Well, erm, I, er. I don’t know, er, do you mean me, or the island, me, I have no idea, but the island seems familiar, in fact it’s so familiar I would say that it’s, stereotypical.’ Comm once again raised his eyebrows.

‘Stereotypical, you are very, very strange. You create a world that no one has ever seen, then use a word that I have never heard before, and I can assure you, I know billions of words.’ Sandy frowned, and then shrugged.

‘Having the qualities that you would expect a particular type of person or thing to have. This island is a tropical island. If you were to say to someone, think of a tropical island, this, is what they would think of. It is a stereotype, hence stereotypical,’ Sandy said, then sipped his apple juice.

‘But from where? Comm countered, leaning forward.

‘Well from …the tropics,’ Sandy said at last, shrugging his shoulders.

Comm drank the last of his drink.

‘The tropics … many planets that orbit the habitable region of a star have tropical regions, but I have never seen anything quite like this, and I have been the Com-link aboard this ship for forty-seven standard years, and in that time the Griffin has visited over ten thousand planets. Not once have I witnessed anything quite like this, so, be more specific, which planet, exactly?’ he demanded, the smile fading.

Sandy was taken aback by this sudden turn in the conversation. It was no longer jovial, more interrogational. He studied Comm, who was now sitting upright, his bright blue eyes boring into him.

‘You are after information that you know I have no access to. But I know whatever this planet is, this island is a part of it.’

Comm relaxed and leaned back from the young man, the smile returning.

‘Then let’s look at the evidence, an island, the mantis, oh, and the apple juice. The first two I know nothing about, but an apple, now this has come up in my findings of over ten thousand searches. It is indigenous to a planet called Earth. The early colonists on a multitude of planets tried to cultivate the apple, and many other fruits and vegetables, but they just could not get them to grow. Now, the strange thing is, how do you know about the apple? I found mention of it in a report whose author is now long gone, like the planet it came from, a planet that was destroyed over five thousand standard years ago. So, tell me, mystery man, how is it possible that you, a person that has no memory, can imagine this whole scenario, with reference to a fruit that you could not possibly know.’

Sandy sipped his apple juice and concentrated on the taste. It definitely was apple, he recognised it as the juice of an apple. If it were to be fermented it would turn into an alcoholic cider, he knew that. He knew that this was an island, although he had not walked its perimeter. The mantis however, was pure imagination, the creature shouldn’t be two meters tall, and would never be serving drinks, this was all imagination, with truths and fiction mingled together. But the revelation that Earth had been destroyed, unsettled him. He did not know why, he had never heard of the place, so why should it affect him? He leant back on his stool and studied the old man, a personification of a machine that collects data.

He replaced the glass on the counter. He had drunk two thirds of its contents. The Mantis dropped in two cubes of ice and refilled it with juice before returning to its glass cleaning.

‘I don’t know, how I know, I just know that it is. I have never heard of the planet Earth, and yet,’ he leaned forward.

‘Why should I feel somehow upset when you tell me it’s been destroyed?’

Comm’s seemed to be in a faraway place. His face was expressionless He had raised his right hand to his chin and his index finger tapped the side of his cheek.

‘Er … you okay Comm?’ Sandy asked with concern.

‘Yes, sorry, er, yes. I am just receiving information from the Med lab team: You have just had a massive emotional experience, in a mind that has no memories. You are a fascinating study and I am sure that some of the answers to a lot of our questions are to be found here, in this wonderful place that you have created for us. We still have quite some time left, so, let’s go and explore.’

Putting his empty glass on the bar, he stood and walked towards the white breakers. Sandy left the full glass of apple juice and followed him. ‘This Comm,’ he thought, ‘seems to blow hot and cold without hesitation.’ Something within him warned him to be wary, and yet, Comm, was here to help him … wasn’t he?

He picked up his speed and very soon he caught him up. Comm stood at the water’s edge, turned and looked down one side of the beach then turned to look down the other.

‘Any preference as to which way?’ he asked.

‘If this is an island that means, whichever way we go, we’ll end up back here. So I don’t think it really matters … so, let’s go that way,’ he said pointing. Comm shrugged and turned to walk down the white sandy beach. Sandy followed two paces behind. After twenty minutes Comm called to the younger man.

‘We have been walking for some time, and yet, the sun has not moved. Your island seems to be stuck in time,’ Comm said without turning. He walked into the warm water and stopped.

‘This is an interesting feeling, very soothing.’

‘Paddling,’ Sandy said as he followed him into the surf. Comm turned, his face quizzical.

‘Paddling,’ he repeated, with a shrug of the shoulders. Sandy laughed.

‘Walking in water, or the enjoyment of walking in water,’

‘We do seem to have a breakdown in translation. Again you offer a word that has no meaning to me, this in itself, is, curious, but I quite like this, er, paddling’, he chuckled as he stomped his way through the shallow breakers.

They walked in silence for a while looking for any evidence of an explanation of this imagined scenario. None came.

The white surf aside a turquoise sea, the breakers splashing onto the white fine sand, the palm trees, and the dominating volcano with its small puff of smoke at its vent. It was all too idyllic. Comm walked four paces in front of the young creature who now represented an enigma to him. There were too many icons, nothing fitted anything, he was confused, and decided to relay the information, such as it was, back to the Med lab technicians who were eagerly waiting for his updates.

‘What exactly are you?’ said Sandy from behind. Comm turned to face him.

‘Well …’ he said slowly, ‘that’s what I’m here to find out. About you, who you are, what you are, er … Are you dangerous? Are you a threat to the Griffin, and of course to Command?’

Sandy frowned, and slumped down onto the sand, his feet just touching the warm water. He revelled in the sensation as the gentle waves caressed his feet and calves. He leant back, his hands clasped behind his head.

‘I don’t think I’m a threat, and I’m certainly not dangerous, at least I don’t think I am, not to you, or the Griffin, or to, Command, whatever that is.’ Comm walked back to the young man and crouched before him. Smiling he leant forward and touched the younger’s hair.

‘I can feel that, do you?’ asked Comm.

Sandy frowned. ‘What, you, touching my hair?’

The older man smiled showing perfect white teeth.

‘Yes, can you feel me touching your hair?’

Sandy raised his hand and gently moved Comm’s hand away.

‘Yes, I feel it, but what does that have to do with what you, or … I, are?’

Comm sat crossed legged beside him.

‘It has everything to do with us, I see you and to prove you’re here I can feel you, and it is the same for you. But we don’t know each other, that is why we are here, in this incredible world that you have created,’ he looked up at the towering volcano. ‘We are here to find out, about each other.’

Sandy followed his gaze up to the peak of the volcano and concentrated on the small puff of smoke that haloed the summit.

‘As I told you, I don’t know who I am.’

Comm turned abruptly to him. ‘Ah, but all the clues are here, as I said earlier, we just have to decipher them. This is your mind that is speaking to us; we just have to listen.’

‘Yes,’ said Sandy turning to face the old man. ‘We have to find out about each other, so, you start. What is the Griffin and what is, Command?’

Comm leant back and closed his eyes. To Sandy it gave the impression of deep thought, but in reality Comm was in discussion with the Med team and in conclusion to their debate both Comm and the team could see no danger in revealing answers to his questions.

‘The Griffin,’ Comm said softly as he opened his pale blue eyes and fixed the stare onto the young man who leant forward slightly.

‘It is my ship, or I should say that I am an integral part of the ship, the Com-link controls the ship, from its engines to its life support. However, I am a sub-routine of the main Com. I am assigned to the Med lab, although I do have access to the main data bases and antiquity archives. However, the Griffin, like me, is old, this is her last mission. We have just over three standard years left, then we head to Outpost Station 1436, a facility that will break her down into its component molecular parts. They will auction what they can before that, then scrap the rest. This is the end of days for us, but she has had a long and interesting life. Forty-seven standard years ago she was built as Command’s flag ship, the biggest and most powerful in the fleet. She has been in battle several times and for ten years was victorious, and then, as with everything, she became outdated. We lost a battle, but, we survived, we were repaired and sent back, but, on our next encounter, we were out manoeuvred and outgunned. The last battle saw seventy-five percent of our crew destroyed. For five days the Captain played dead in space, our enemy never boarded us, they just left us, eventually we limped back to Command and we were decommissioned as a fighting vessel. The Griffin then started a new life as a training ship, and we did that for thirty standard years, but, technology evolves and it was felt that it was pointless training new crews on such an old ship, so, for nearly twenty standard years we have been at the farthest reaches of known space, jumping from one asteroid field to another, surveying and sampling various ores and minerals so that they can be refined and used to create newer and better fighting ships. It is in this asteroid field, the largest we have ever encountered, that we found you.’ Sandy shuffled closer to him.

‘You found me here. Why was I here?’

Comm frowned. ‘We don’t know, that’s why we are here, sitting on this beach.’

Sandy lowered his head. ‘Yes, of course sorry, please continue’

‘The Griffin is now home to a squadron of heavy lift shuttles and freighters. They survey the field and then bring back samples to be tested, and if we have a good field, as I think we have here, Command will send a whole flotilla of factory ships.

‘It was on one of the larger asteroids that you were found, a heavy lifter was surveying it when an organic alarm was sounded. They couldn’t locate you at first, you were in a capsule, set deep within a cavern. How you got there we have no idea, and even the capsule itself bears no resemblance to any Command design. When they finally got you back, the engineers and the Med teams opened up the capsule, what they found, well, you weren’t recognisable as a human. You had deteriorated so much, your body had almost completely decomposed. It was only the life support system that had kept your brain and mind alive, for there was nothing else left of you. Our Captain felt it was beyond the reach of this ship’s capabilities to save you. The Med team however, felt differently. There was quite a disagreement, but the Med team won the argument, and they are right now trying to rebuild you. It will take some time.’

Sandy frowned and gaped open-mouthed at him. He held up his hand, a stopping gesture that Comm recognised.

‘I am being rebuilt, what into, a robot or something?’

Comm did not recognise the term ‘robot’ at first, but a deep scan of the older records brought up the definition. This was confusing however. The last records that involved the word, robot, were approximately five thousand years old. He sent the information back to the Med team.

‘How do you know such a word?’ he asked slowly.

Sandy thought for a moment. ‘What? ‘Robot’?’ he asked, puzzled.

‘Yes, ‘robot’, a term that has not been used since the early colonists. Again, along with the term ‘apple’ these are references that are over five thousand years old. Could it be possible, that you are …thatold, that you have been in that capsule for that length of time?’ He sent back his report to the Med team and asked them to interact with the engineering Com-link that was designated to the study of the capsule that lay in pieces in sub hanger 6.

‘I don’t know,’ Sandy said, shaking his head. ‘Am I going to be a robot?’

Comm sighed, then smiled. ‘No, not in the definition of the word. Your body will be cloned using the organic matter found in the capsule. You should look exactly as you do here. We did not create this image of you, this is all your own design, so we can only assume that this is the true image of yourself, an image that I have sent to the Med lab. When you awake, this is the body you will awake in,’ he said gesturing to the young man seated before him.

Sandy relaxed and leant back, he sighed with relief.

‘That’s good to know. So, getting back to the story. You’re at war. Who with? Some alien monstrosity that is determined to destroy everything you stand for? And you have been fighting them for, how long? Nearly fifty years, that’s a long time,’ he paused and thought for a moment.

‘Are you winning?’ he asked slowly.

Comm was confused for a second. This young man’s terminology was difficult to follow. He decided he would answer the questions as they were submitted to him, perhaps, he thought, he was looking too deep into the meaning. That of course could come later.

Comm used the ‘hand up’ gesture that he had seen the young man use earlier. Sandy stopped.

‘Aliens,’ Comm said slowly.

‘Do you mean sentient beings from other cultures, different from our own? Would that be your definition?’ he asked matter-of-factly.

‘Well,’ Sandy said, slightly puzzled.

‘Creatures from other planets, er, not human?’

‘There are many creatures on many of the planets that we have visited. None, however, capable of waging war on Command. In four thousand or so years of exploration we have never come across any other species that is as sentient as humans, not even a structure that has been left by any ancient race. Humans are the only dominant species in this sector of the Galaxy, of that I am sure.’

Sandy glared in disbelief.

‘We are alone, but there are billions of star systems. Surely …?’

Comm held up his hand. ‘I am not saying that the Galaxy as a whole does not contain other such beings, just the ones we have encountered,’

‘And how many is that?’ Sandy interrupted.

Comm closed his eyes for an instant. ‘One hundred and thirty seven thousand planets or moons have either been colonised, or at least visited by remote unmanned probes, so, in the great scale of the Galaxy hardly any. So, to answer your question, we are not at war with an alien race, but as we have always been, with ourselves, or, in this case a supposedly higher caste of human. They believe they are superior, and we have not been at war for nearly fifty standard years. It has been more like four thousand years, and, as to winning, no side has gained any strategic advantage. Ever.’

‘So, what is the point?’ Sandy asked, slowly shaking his head. Comm smiled.

‘That philosophical question has never, ever been totally answered.’ Sandy thought for a moment. A four thousand year war.

‘How many have died?’ he inquired at last.

‘Billions’, Comm said quickly. ‘And probably billions yet will die,’ he added solemnly.

Sandy held up his hand, a puzzled look on his face.

‘So, I have been rescued by a ship of war.’

Comm studied the face of the young man as he struggled to come to terms with his own predicament. He was aware that there would be a denial to his situation, maybe anger at some stage, but as for now he would answer the questions as calmly as he could.

‘As I said, that was many years ago. At her height, the Griffin had four thousand five hundred crew members. They were distributed over Griffin’s thirty-five levels, this ship once pulsed with activity,’ Comm closed his eyes and his face drooped into sadness. He took a deep breath and his eyes opened.

‘We have a crew manifest of one hundred and seventy-five now, all on just six levels, Oh,’ he finished, his face brightening and the smile returning.

‘And of course, one passenger.’

Sandy leaned forward, his jaw dropping.

‘There are thirty-five decks on this ship! It must be huge!’

Comm leant back and looked at the cloudless sky. He calculated its hue, brightness, and contrast in relation to the sun’s luminosity. There were many discrepancies but it was, he thought in conclusion, just an illusion, a visual display, imaginary. He returned to the question.

‘She is just over 1.3 kilometres long and just under 400 metres wide. She is pretty big, but the newer ships are bigger.’ A sadness flickered over his eyes. Sandy thought he could see his eyes glaze with moisture: He leant closer and forced himself to stop reaching out to comfort the older man.

‘Most of those levels have been decommissioned now, just empty spaces, even the air has been sucked out of them.’ He shifted his weight upon the sand, altering his position. He noticed the concerned look on the younger man’s face and slowly shook his head to allay his fears. ‘Each time we docked, whether that was a space station or planetary orbital dry dock, Command would order another level to be stripped away.’ He glanced away and focused on the towering volcano, the constant cloud of smoke that haloed the vent wasn’t right he thought. It hasn’t moved, but then, it, like all of this, is just an image. Sandy waited for him to regain his composure. ‘Strange,’ Sandy thought to himself, that a computer sub routine could feel the pain of the slow destruction of its home.

Comm took in a deep breath and turned back to him. ‘The Griffin does not have a glorious death awaiting her. She will die slowly, one piece at a time, a pitiful end for such a courageous entity, it is …’. Sandy now stretched out his hand and gently held Comm’s arm, Comm looked down, smiled, and patted Sandy’s hand and looked up into the young man’s face.

‘It is … shameful,’ he finished.

Sandy nodded, feeling the pain that Comm’s face revealed, he turned and looked along the expanse of sand and surf that they had yet to explore. He turned back to Comm.

‘You said that apart from the ship being broken up, there will be an auction, maybe somebody will buy you and you will be installed in a brand-new ship.’ Comm suppressed a laugh.

‘No, I don’t think so, when we get to the auction, Griffin will be fifty-standard years-old, technology that old doesn’t sell well.’ Sandy frowned.

‘Standard year, what’s, a standard year’ Comm cocked his head to his right shoulder.

‘It is how we perceive time, every planet has a different rotation and orbit time, so rather than adapting to local times, we use a standard time, which is, twenty hour days, segmented into five hour work, five hour rest and ten hour sleep.’ He answered with a shrug. Sandy thought on this, slowly, he nodded.

‘Yes, that makes sense, but, getting back to the auction, you have to hope, you never know. Something might come up.’ Comm was impressed with this young man. He had something that he had never seen in a human before. He searched for a definition, again, his search led him to chronicles written thousands of years previously – ‘charisma’ – that’s what this boy has. He passed the information to the Med team. They were confused and asked for clarification. Comm sighed inwardly, I will state it on my debriefing, when I return.

‘You have spoken about Command, on quite a few occasions. Is that your military hierarchy?’ Sandy continued. Comm closed down the Med link and contemplated the question.

‘No …er … yes, it’s both, its …’ Comm was surprised, the question was simple, and yet the answer was probably the most complex he had ever dealt with. There was no answer, but surely there is an answer. ‘What is Command?’ He decided to re-establish the link to the Med lab team.

Sandy watched surprised as Comm’s face distorted into a frozen glare, his jaw had slackened and had dropped slightly, his face now gave the expression of horror or shock.

‘I’m sorry if I have offended or insulted you, I don’t mean any offence.’ Comm regained his composure and gently took hold of Sandy’s shoulder, the smile with the perfect teeth returned.

‘No, you have not offended me, Command is such a huge part of our lives, Command is everything, it just seems strange when you question it, it … doesn’t seem to have a definitive answer.’ Sandy was again puzzled.

‘It …you mean ‘them’ don’t you.’

‘Them,’ Comm said, a frown emerging across his face. ‘There is no them,’

Sandy leant back feeling the warmth of the fine sand sift through his fingers and the warm sea as it lapped up onto his calves. It was idyllic, the sea, the sand and the sun directly overhead, bathing him in warmth, it soothed him to calmness.

‘Command must be ‘they’,’ he said at last.

‘A combination of military high rankers telling the lower ranks what to do, and what to expect if they don’t do it.’

Comm exploded in laughter, his eyes filling with moisture. ‘No … I’m sorry, you’re so wrong,’ he said through fits of chuckles and laughs.

‘Command is definitely not a ‘they’, it is an ‘it’. It’s difficult, it is so entwined into our life, it gives us standards and goals, it gives us aspirations, yes, it tells us what to do and how to do it, but it also gives us rewards, once those goals have been achieved. Command is … everything … everything that we are, whether you are organic or synthetic or photonic, Command is the very structure of our lives, which is why it is so hard to define.’

Sandy studied the old man. He was the personification of the Griffin’s control system, and, at best, he thought, just a sub routine, but the old weather-beaten sun-tanned face with the impossibly perfect teeth showed convincing emotions, expressions of seriousness, humour, sadness and now, awe.

Sandy realised that Comm wasn’t just answering his questions he was excited to answer them – the answer on Command, which Sandy thought should have been the easiest for this sub routine to deal with came across with an element of pride and passion. Sandy softened his voice and smiled as he asked his next question.

‘What then would happen if you did not live up to those standards. Are you punished?’

Comm thought for a while, his face blank.

‘No,’ he said slowly.

‘Not punished, re-educated, maybe removed.’

Sandy was shocked. ‘Removed, as in, eliminated,’ he said quickly. Comm was physically jolted as if the young man had slapped him.

‘No, no, removed, as in replaced, taken away from a situation that you possibly do not understand, re-educated then reassigned,’ Comm blurted.

Sandy leant closer. ‘And the people that you are at war with, they refused to be educated, is that what happened?’ Sandy watched as the smile dropped from Comm’s face.

Comm sat up and leant towards the younger man. Sandy instinctively recoiled and leant back from him.

‘No, you are wrong. Command is our way of life. Yes, it has standards, the humans that decided eons ago to pursue a different lifestyle left us. Command was not in place at that time. We advanced to a peaceful existence: it was they who attacked us. We adopt a defensive strategy, keeping them at bay, we do however push them back to their own sector, but we never attack. I promise you Sandy, we are not the aggressors.’

Sandy re-examined the Comm link. He was part of the ship’s systems, a ship that was no doubt designed and built by Command, originally as a craft of war, then later as a training vessel. Of course the Comm would be biased, it was all down to programming. He decided not to argue the point, instead he altered his seating position and relaxed. Comm also leant back. nodding his head slightly in agreement. Sandy continued.

‘So, Command has not always been a part of your lives,’ he said in a smooth soft voice.

Comm relaxed, whatever confrontation he was expecting had now passed, but he was surprised at why he had been so agitated. It was just a question, why had it evoked such a response from him, he had for a second felt anger. He relayed this back to the Med team, they did not respond.

‘No,’ he said, the smile returning. ‘It has not always been a part of our lives. It came into being some …’ he stopped to activate historical records.

‘About two thousand standard years ago. We had been in confrontation with the Breakaways for a few thousand years before then, skirmishes and land grabs mainly, never a full scale war, even now, the confrontations mainly involve border control, nothing, I assure you, this far out, so, we are extremely safe here. However, two thousand years ago we were losing star systems, we were being pushed back, we needed to unify, so the standards or rules were put together, standards to live and to fight for, then slowly they evolved into what we now call ‘Command’.’

Sandy looked out to the horizon of his imagined world, this was all so surreal, he thought, why did he want to know so much about this ship and Command, but not about himself? He had dismissed any notion of asking of his own wellbeing and the life capsule in which he was found.

‘Something else troubles you?’ Comm asked, trying to gauge the younger man. ‘Sandy, I am here to answer all of your questions, no matter how painful they are … well, as best as I can,’ he finished with the perfect toothed smile.

Sandy stood and brushed the sand from his shirt. He glanced up at the volcano and took a deep breath.

‘I feel nothing regarding myself, my memories start at the water’s edge where I met you. I know nothing of my past. I don’t even know who I am, and yet,’ he paused and waited for his older companion to stand.

‘And yet, I feel nothing, no remorse for lost family and friends, no frustration from the predicament that I am in, no fear, no anger. I should at least feel fear.’

Comm gently draped his arm around the younger’s shoulder and led him back onto the white sandy beach.

‘That,’ he said with a sigh, ‘is most probably our fault.’ He stopped and turned the young man around so that they stood eye to eye. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. His stature drooped. Slowly shaking his head he said.

‘The Med team, under my direction, has buffered out any emotional stimulus. I will allow some emotions to surface as we continue our journey, but do not worry, I will only do this if I believe it is in your best interest to do so.’

Chapter 3 - Pyramid of evil

They were now over five kilometres away from the mantis and the bar. The scenery had not changed, one kilometre looked identical to the previous, but onwards they trudged. Sandy followed the older man two paces behind. This trek, he thought, was becoming so monotonous, he kicked at the water and laughed as he drenched Comm. Comm turned and for a while they soaked each other, both enjoying the experience of each other’s play. Sandy stopped, his eyes strained to focus on the cliff, its shear wall almost vertical ascended to the vent some five hundred metres above, but, a hundred metres down the beach. Something in the landscape was different.

‘What is it?’ Comm asked, turning to follow his glare.

‘The volcano has a sheer cliff, and it comes right out onto the beach down there.’ He pointed to the outcrop further down the beach.

‘That’s different to what we have been seeing, I mean.’ Comm did not need to follow his pointing finger. He could see the outcrop of rock. He turned to look back the way they had come. There was no diversion in the pattern of the scenery that they had walked past, only this. He turned back and strode determinedly towards the cliff. Sandy watched him ‘What would they find?’ he thought. He jogged towards the distant outcrop and soon caught up with Comm.

‘There is something on the cliff wall,’ Comm said softly. Sandy looked to the wall and could see nothing, but then small bulges became evident in the otherwise smooth surface of the cliff wall.

‘Oh my …’, gasped Comm, and leapt into a run. Sandy found it difficult to keep up, but after a hundred-metre sprint almost collided with Comm as he came to a sudden halt. They both stared in disbelief at the statues that had been carved into the cliff wall. A pedestal, two metres high and half a metre in diameter, stood at beach level. At its centre a large gold embossed ‘O’, and standing upon it a two metre statue of Sandy. He held a scroll, unfurled, and blank, above him to his right another statue with its right foot on his shoulder, to the left another, with a foot on his left shoulder, above them three others, and above them four others, creating an inverted pyramid of statues all holding unfurled scrolls at their midriff.

‘Who are they?’ Sandy asked at last. He walked closer to the perfect sculpture of himself.

Comm studied them all in minute detail for some time before he commented.

‘They are not the nicest of people, and it’s surprising that you are among them. Or, maybe it is not surprising; we do not know exactly what you are,’ he said and flashed a glance at the younger man.

Comm sat himself down leaning back on the warm sand looking up at the statues.

‘They are dressed exactly as my historical data records show them, and you, at the bottom there, are dressed exactly as you are now. They all hold a scroll, with their names carved within, except you.’

Sandy sat down beside him.

‘And the pedestal, the ‘O’, does that mean anything?’

Comm shook his head. ‘I know nothing of you, but I know a lot about the others, and the ‘O’ does not match any cross records. This is amazing, absolutely amazing. Why, are you amongst them? They stand upon your shoulders, you hold them aloft. Hmm, perhaps, the O is not an O, but a zero, that might make sense, the pedestal is zero, you are 1, then the 2 above you, the 3 above them, and then the 4 could be some kind of code, 0,1,2,3,4.’ Comm cocked his head to one side as he pondered the statues.

‘Not much of a code,’ Sandy interrupted.

‘What about a countdown, if you read it from top to bottom,’ Comm turned to him, a frown forming on his face.

‘That’s very astute, and, if I may say so, somewhat disturbing,’ he said slowly.

‘Who are they?’ Sandy whispered. Comm turned to face him.

‘You do not know, seriously?’ Sandy slowly shook his head, Comm turned back to the statues.

‘They are monsters, all of them, some of them have killed billions, others millions, in one way or another, whole civilisations have either been wiped out, or, at the very least altered, Planets in some cases have been left charred or dead. They have moulded us and destroyed us, we are what we are today because of them, but the strange thing about these statues is, they match a timeline. On the top line, the first two, were the first to appear in our history, then the next two, then the next line, and so on all the way down to you.’

‘Are they tyrants, war lords?’ Sandy asked in awe, looking up at the statues.

‘No, some were scientists, others administrators, but billions have died because of them.’ Comm turned to look at Sandy directly.

‘And they all stand upon your shoulders, so, how many billions will you kill?’

Sandy felt a shiver run through him. He turned abruptly to the older man, his face a scowl.

‘None, I would hope,’ he growled. ‘‘I do not know these people. I have no idea why I am with them.’

Comm did not return the gaze and sat leaning back on his hands staring up at the statues.

‘All this, the island, everything, is from your own mind, a mind that is empty of memory. Do you know, I am fast coming to the conclusion that all of this is being fed to you, probably from the capsule that we found you in. There can be no other explanation. It could be that all of your memories were removed and kept in storage, yet our engineers have not found any storage devices, but the fact remains, you are here, this island with all its peculiarities is here, and it all comes from you. I can assure you, I have not had any input into this place.’ He then turned slowly to face the younger man.

‘You, my friend, are being drip fed information, which is just as new to you as it is to all of us. The question is, why? So let’s just take one step at a time, let’s find that common denominator – this island, the mantis, the apple juice, this exhibit. Let’s take the first two people on the top line of the statues. Can you read the names on the scrolls?’

Sandy turned his head away from the older man and looked up at the line of four.

‘Sindra Chandra and Ilya Kowaski,’ Sandy said slowly, squinting at the top row of statues.

‘And the common denominator is,’ Comm said holding his hands out expecting an answer. Sandy looked back at him with a blank face.

‘Earth, we come back to Earth again. And yet, it was destroyed five thousand six hundred and twenty-five years ago,’ Comm said with a frown, he raised his hand to his chin and tapped his index finger upon his cheek.

‘You could not have known the Earth, our engineers say that the capsule in which you were found is only a thousand years old, though as good as our engineers are, they have been known to be wrong sometimes.’

Sandy looked back to the two statues on the first tier. ‘Do you know their story, maybe, in the telling of it, I might recollect something.’ Comm turned to him nodding his head.

‘Yes, that’s possible, but what you have to remember, is that reports, or truly accurate accounts of what happened over five thousand years ago, are to say the least, a lot of hearsay. Command, has put together a historical account of the events that took place that day, but they may not be exactly accurate. It was a very confusing time.’

Sandy shrugged his shoulders. ‘I think that it’s important to try,’ he said trying to gauge the frown on Comm’s face. Comm thought for a moment.

‘There are of course, other archives, diaries, personal logs and journals of the people who were there at the time. These documents are available, but many are incomplete. But they may help to, well, to give a flavour to the events.’

Sandy turned away from the statues and faced the older man.

‘Ok, I’m ready; tell their story, as best you can.’

Chapter 4 - Distant pasts

The sand below Sandy’s’ feet slowly congealed to become a much harder surface. In a slight panic he looked around him, the statues and the high cliff face slowly melted away, and for a few moments they were laying in a place that had no features, just a greyness that fell about them. He turned to focus on the older man, but Comm seemed to have frozen. Sandy was about to speak when slowly the structure of the beach and the cliff face reformed about them. They were now lying on the floor of a broad carpeted corridor that seemed to run for hundreds of metres in both directions, crowds of people pushing and jostling to be nearer the far wall.

‘Where are we?’ Sandy asked in a whisper. Slowly, Comm rose to his feet and offered a hand to Sandy, who accepted it and pulled himself up.

‘This is the cruise liner ‘Orion’, positioned fifty kilometres from the Stella portal, which was known as the disc. These people have paid a high price to witness the first interstellar maiden voyage. What they will actually witness is the destruction of their own planet.’

Sandy felt an emotional pang. Was this, his own planet, his ancestral home, no, surely, that was impossible, but the emotion was triggered by Comm’s matter of fact description of a planet being destroyed.

‘Can we get closer to the observation windows?’ he asked, trying to look over the crowd of at least ten deep in front of him. Comm watched amused as he jumped to try a capture a glimpse of the spectacle beyond the enormous viewing windows. He then received a report from the Med lab regarding the emotional spike that had just occurred. Sandy didn’t seem to be phased by it, or he was hiding it well, but, thought Comm, this planet Earth definitely means something to him.

‘We are not actually here,’ Comm said, raising his voice above the drone of the hundreds of people around him. He turned and walked to the back of the pushing crowd. Without conscious thought they parted to allow him access. Sandy watched amazed at how Comm eased his way through the throbbing crowd. Shaking his head in disbelief he caught Comm up and walked alongside him to the window.

Outside the enormous observation windows of the Orion, hundreds of space craft of different sizes and shapes lay in wait above and below them, but they alone had an unbroken view.

The space portal was disc-shaped, concaved in the centre, and it glistened in the sunlight. Sandy could just make out a large ship stationed at its centre. The disc had a diameter of five kilometres. It was, he thought, a spectacular scene. To his left the blue green planet with wisps of white cloud, and just coming into view from behind the myriad of ships on the far side of the disc, the planets satellite, its moon.

Comm was in communication with the Med lab, the science technical team were asking whether Sandy would react to more of the history of the planet. Comm had argued that to go back further into the planet’s history would be stretching the validity of the personal journals to their limit and could not guarantee the accuracy of any events they would witness. The Med team then argued that the violent history of this planet’s past could trigger some lost memories. Comm thought this through and reluctantly he conceded, and agreed.

Sandy was leaning up against the observation window, transfixed by the spectacle. Comm leant towards him and over the drone of a thousand voices spoke into Sandy’s ear.

‘We are twenty minutes from the destruction; let us go back to just before the alliance unified the planet.’

Sandy turned puzzled.

‘Back … but … I want to see what happens.’

Comm smiled.

‘Let’s build this story from its beginning, then through to its spectacular finale.’

Sandy turned back to the enormous observation window to look at the space portal, just as it started to dissipate. They were again in the non-place, the grey featureless world that he had experienced before. Soon features appeared, and after blinking away the brightness of a noon day sun that had just materialised around them, he realised that they were now standing on the brow of a hill looking down over a deserted, desolate place.

‘These are the barren lands, two thirds of the Earth have been taken over by this wanton devastation. It was orchestrated by an organisation called the Elder House. I have very little information on who or what they were, but, before they came into being, it is reported that twenty billion people populated this planet. Two thousand years later, which is the time that we are now witnessing, the population has been reduced to just a few million, planet wide.’

Sandy surveyed the sparseness of the land.

‘We are in a desert,’ he said, scanning for any manufactured structure or vegetation he could focus on. He could not see any.

‘Yes, it is one now,’ said Comm slowly.

‘We are in a place that was once quite fertile, but the overseers of the Elder House have at this time reduced people to a nomadic existence, the weather satellites in orbit have failed due to non-maintenance. As a result, the solar mirrors are fixed pointing down onto the planet’s surface. over the last two thousand years the temperature has risen to create desert conditions on every land mass.’

Sandy slowly shook his head, the desolation of this burnt land was starting to awaken the realisation of the total devastation and the wanton destruction of society. He then slowly turned to face Comm.