The surface of Tau Ceti 5b, in the Tau Ceti system

14:40 hours Ship Time, day 76 Tau Ceti Mission Year 51

Stephen sat down to think over the events that had happened over the past two years since the Tau Ceti set up a parking orbit around the Klankharis home-world. He had been so involved with the whole process of setting up trade agreements and talks (along with Captain Greenfield as his CO) that he hadn’t thought about how much had changed over the years.

As planned, Davidson had to undergo continuous sessions of talks with Miradima, for the first six months held under supervision with the Captain and two of Miradima’s security team. John and Helen were both tasked with preparing and sending all of their medical data from the Tau Ceti to Miradima so that she could translate it into a form that her people would understand. Adam and Caitlin were both investigating the communications aspects of Klankharii technology as a possible addition to their trade (and at the same time looking into exchanging computer construction technologies at the same time – Earth built faster Microprocessors than Klankharis despite the obvious technological superiority Klankharis possessed, and combining the two technologies might get both of them the capability to build systems that were much faster). Stephen was charged with the responsibility of integrating the promised space-folding technology with the Tau Ceti’s navigation and propulsion systems. He worked with Adam on the project and with John.

The changes came not long after their relocation to Tau Ceti 5b. It was decided by the Realm’s leading council that the Earth ship would be relocated there because the population of that world was much less than their home-world and that would allow some room for the humans to set up quarters. Stephen wasn’t really sure what the issue was in that regard, since there would always be some room on any planet regardless of population. He therefore asked Miradima about it one day.

“It is difficult to explain,” she told him in reply. “But there are some of us that have developed an ability to read the thoughts and emotions of others.”

“Telepaths?” Stephen asked.

Miradima looked perplexed. “Telepaths? I don’t know Telepaths.”

Stephen recalled that there were some areas of the English language that were not yet understood by Miradima and her people. “A Telepath is a person that can read the minds of others. Emotions… Thoughts… That kind of thing.”

Miradima’s face cleared as she understood. “Well we have many Telepaths. Some of them cannot stop the thoughts of others unless they are kept at a safe distance. That is why we have to find somewhere less populated for you to visit. A Telepath might find it disturbing for an untrained mind to be flooding them with thoughts and emotions, especially when they have not been warned in advance.”

With that explanation, Stephen was satisfied.

There were other changes as well. Davidson’s sessions with Miradima, while just as frequent, began to change in nature, just as his talking about them did over time. Initially he kept his own counsel on what was discussed. Over time, he began to reveal details to the Captain. Initially very formal affairs, the discussions mirrored the actual sessions that took place, growing more informal over time. They were also growing far more frequent lately, which Stephen puzzled over for a time and then gave up wondering about. Eventually, Davidson and Miradima met for talks at a far less regular hour and without any form of supervision from security or the Captain. In fact, last night’s meeting took place on board Miradima’s ship at about midnight, ship time. Very unusual.

Stephen also found that as the months went by, the entire crew were finding out more about their new neighbours. When the Tau Ceti entered the system two years before, none of the humans had any idea about the capabilities of the Realm. Now, after two years, Stephen felt he was beginning to know a great deal.

There were five classes of combat vessel in use by the Klankharis Realm. From Stephen’s understanding of naval vessels, he had managed to categorise the vessels to match the most appropriate classes and therefore knew how to identify different types of vessel in a far easier fashion than the Realm had used themselves for centuries, or maybe longer. In this respect, the Klankharis Realm operated a fleet of ships that was comparable to Earth’s navy, but with space-bound as opposed to ocean-going ships.

Stephen had also taken a look at the people’s history. It made fascinating reading, and large numbers of references were made to an enemy that went unnamed but were occasionally referenced as the Realm’s nemesis. Stephen could only assume that the enemy was so well known by all the people of the Realm that no details were required about who they were or where they came from, since those details were conspicuous by their absence.

What was highly detailed were the events of the past two or three thousand years. Stephen found it fascinating that the Klankharis Realm was only formed at the start of the most detailed historical records. He had difficulty reading the whole text since there were still some words he could not translate from text – he found the language easier to speak – but what he was able to read told him that the Realm was founded some two and a half thousand years before, and for at least half that time, the Realm kept very quietly to themselves in order to hide from the enemy, who at the time were far too powerful to risk an attack. Then a hundred fifty years ago, the enemy re-discovered them (references were made to previous invasions) and launched a full-scale invasion that on this occasion, was unsuccessful. Pressing ahead their advantage, the Realm committed large numbers of ships and almost their entire planetary infrastructure to hunt down and eliminate the enemy from the area of at least fifty light years radius. Luckily enough, the Realm also managed to track down a supply base and an operations base within that radius, effectively halting the enemy operations in the sector. There had been no enemy attacks mentioned since.

Another enemy was mentioned in the history. This one was named the Faction, if Stephen understood the translation correctly, and they originated within the Realm, breaking away to attempt an enforcement of their isolationist principles. The history mentioned their attacks on exploratory shipping and the slaughter of entire waves of foreign ships sent in to investigate the disappearances of their scouts. It also went on to mention that the Realm ordered the eradication of the Faction, reasoning that no other race should have to expect to risk being destroyed just because they wanted first contact, and that the Faction refused to back down.

Oddly enough only a passing mention was made to the destruction of the last Faction ship in orbit of Tau Ceti 3, but no date was given. Stephen found it puzzling as well to notice that, while there were mentions made of visits to other planets (and the results of those visits documented in history), there was no mention of any previous visits to Earth. Surely with the similarities between the two people they would have blended in with no alteration required except maybe for their attire?

It also became patently obvious that, while Stephen expected some bits and pieces of their history before the Realm was founded (because of the interstellar war that took place before, and the reduction of their population to just a handful of surviving spacecraft), he did not expect a total lack of history before what would have been dated 8000 BC on Earth. Stephen understood from these records that the Realm had space-flight capabilities as long ago as their history mentions, maybe even longer than that. It was as if the species simply did not exist before that time, which Stephen found hard to believe. So why was there no historical reference before? There were methods of record-keeping that existed on paper for humans, long before they acquired computer technology. Surely something similar existed on the Klankharis home-world before they entered their digital age?

His attention was brought back to the present when he and the others were called in to a meeting to discuss their progress to date. Stephen got to work.

The Arizona Outskirts, American Continent.

15:07 Hours Eastern Time, November 8th

Jason and Dave were now inside the building.

This was not the kind of place Jason would like to be in at all, let alone for any length of time. There was something amiss with a fully intact building whose only level of damage was superficial and looked all too much to Jason like it could only be damaged outside to keep outsiders from looking inward or becoming suspicious.

However, Jason was no damn fool, and if anyone was fooled by the presence of a building that was not rubble, they deserved everything they got.

Jason just wanted the hell out of there as soon as he could make a break for it, and this feeling further unsettled Jason because he had always thought he had seen it all and been through everything humanly possible short of losing his limbs.

“Hey man, you look freaked,” Dave commented. “What’s up with ya?”

“It’s this place, Dave,” Jason replied sharply. “Don’t this place freak you out? Scares the fuck outta me!”

“No, course not!” Dave replied in a ridiculing tone. “There must be some dead useful stuff in ‘ere for us to grab.”

“Fuckin hell Dave,” Jason snapped. “You trying to tell me you’re not fuckin freaked out by this… This standing block? This concrete building that’s not been demolished by the nukes that levelled everything else around here? And you’re not freaked? Are you nuts?”

“Man, what’s your problem?”

“Shit man, my problem is this place! A little too convenient for us!”

They were now approaching an open doorway leading into a room that looked as if it had a stack of computer hardware, all seemingly operational and running, if the LED’s were anything to go by.

“Hey, look at this,” Dave commented excitedly, walking through the doorway before Jason could grab him. “These things work! We could grab these and be-”

Before Dave could finish, the door had slammed behind him, leaving Jason outside the room and Dave inside.

“DAVE!” Jason shouted. “WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?”

“Get me the hell outta here,” Dave shouted back, but the sound was muffled to almost silence. These rooms must be insulated against sound, Jason thought in the back of his mind, while trying to concentrate on how to open the door.

There was a gunshot round fired somewhere.

Dave suddenly had a hole in his head. A round of ammunition that had been fired from a small pistol had caused it. Jason was no expert on ballistics but it was obvious from the old man standing with the pistol in his hand that the source of the bullet was from his gun.

Dave had now collapsed to the floor, twitching. Jason watched in horror as the man who had shot Dave in the head had himself collapsed. His body had just ceased to function, and something odd was beginning to happen.

His body was levitating all of a sudden, and a luminous mist was rising up from it. This mist was frighteningly fast as it swirled around the room and hugged the walls, acting as though it were still attached to the body it had begun seeping from.

Then after a time, it was no longer connected to the old body and it swirled around the room faster, until it passed over Dave’s body a third time, at which point, Dave’s body stopped twitching and seemed to relax. The mist instantly enveloped the body, and it began to levitate.

Jason was not able to use his legs, so fearful was he that he had been paralysed momentarily. He could only watch.

By now, Dave’s body had risen to shoulder level and the mist was seemingly being absorbed inside, like water into a sponge. Along with this disappearance of the luminous mist, Dave’s body was growing, developing muscles almost seemingly out of thin air. In places, fabric tore apart where it was no longer large enough to cover Dave’s body.

Then, the mist almost completely gone, Dave’s body suddenly dropped, at the same time twisting and rolling so as to land on its’ feet with a slight crouch, before standing up, square, looking at the body of the old man on the floor.

Then it turned to the door where Dave had walked through in the first place, and Jason got a look at those eyes, the coldness in them as the last of the mist disappeared through them inside Dave’s body.

There was nothing of Dave inside that shell any more, and the mist creature or whatever it was now was the new owner, and what a cold, calculating soul it was, staring at Jason as if its look could kill him instantly.

Jason was released from his paralysis, and instantly made flight for the exit, running as fast as his frail shell would allow him to, gasping for the poisoned irradiated air that surrounded the planet.

He hoped that the creature would not be able to follow, but he suspected that it would, so he changed his route back slightly to pass through some derelict areas and into an underground drain network that would take him near the shelter.

Janet was discussing shelter maintenance with her team of support staff in a common office, trying to organise the chaos regarding their latest supply report. So far it had been difficult – they had amassed a sum total of six weeks’ worth of supplies for the entire population of the shelter in a period of two and a half months. At this rate, they would use up their half a year’s reserve within two years and the shelter would descend into chaos, or worse, the population would either starve or be reduced to the nomadic lifestyle of those scavengers that were on the outside.

Such a gloomy prediction could not be allowed to become true. It would spell the end of the entire human race.

So here they were, trying to plan for the worst, ideas such as reducing power usage to non-essential areas of the shelter, closing down lower floors, cutting rations and working hours, when Janet noticed a young boy, possibly one who had just come into his teens.

What annoyed her was that this young kid was handling a power generator that was obviously causing him unmanageable strain.

“Excuse me,” she told the others as Edward was outlining the armoury situation, and then she left them to continue their discussion while she approached the boy, who still had hold of the generator. “You!” She called. “Young man, Drop the generator!”

The boy made a gargantuan effort to gently place the generator on the floor.

“DON’T DO THAT, I SAID DROP IT! RIGHT NOW!”

The boy did as he was bid, dropping the generator suddenly, grazing his arms and narrowly missing his feet by less than an inch, before the generator toppled away from him where it landed.

“I- I’m sorry,” he said sheepishly.

“Don’t be!” Janet snapped. “Were you trying to hurt yourself?”

“No,” he said quietly. “It’s just that I was… I had to carry the generator to the Power Room,” he added nervously.

Janet decided that he was hiding something. “Why did you have to?” The boy remained silent, looking at the ground. “Answer me!”

“I was told I had to do it,” he replied almost voicelessly.

“By who?” Janet was terse with him. Her anger was directed at the cruel bastards who made him do work that she considered dangerous for fully grown adults. Those generators weighed at least fifty kilos, and Janet was surprised this young boy had been able to lift the thing at all.

The kid didn’t answer.

“Who told you?” Janet asked sharply.

“I can’t say,” he said. “They’ll do me in.”

“Well, I’ll have you thrown in the stocks if you disobey me again. Now, I want to know who made you do this!” Janet said, seething. Privately she thought to herself that the boy would probably rather spend a week in the stocks than face what some of the bullying elements would do to him, so she added “They won’t get away with it. They’ll face a long time on punishment duty.”

For a fleeting moment, it looked to Janet as if the boy still would hold out.

The door to the Quartermaster’s office slammed open, and Quartermaster Derricks came stomping out. Janet would take him to task for his surly behaviour another time, but she was still trying to deal with this young boy.

That was, until she noticed the glare he aimed in the boy’s direction, and she thought the slamming open of the Quartermaster’s door and the boy dropping the power generator on the floor were entirely connected.

“What’s all the commotion out-” he started out, before he realised he was dressing down the shelter’s commanding officer. “S-Sorry ma’am, I thought… I mean-”

“Be silent, Derricks,” Janet said absently, still staring at the boy. “Name?”

The boy was still morose, looking at the floor. “Hayward, miss.”

“First name?”

“Mark,” he added, with less sullenness in his tone.

“Now this will be the last time I ask you,” Janet told him in an extremely cold tone, hoping that giving him a direct order in front of the Quartermaster would work. “Who ordered you to carry a power generator that’s too heavy for one person to carry alone?” She spaced her wording out carefully.

Quartermaster Derricks looked shocked. “Someone ordered him to carry that heavy thing across to the Power Room?”

That was his first mistake, Janet thought, storing that comment in her mind for later use. The Power Room wasn’t the only place generators were needed, and she hadn’t told the Quartermaster where he was headed with it. “Hayward, who?”

“Ma’am, I assure you, I can find out from this insolent little shit myself.” That comment was unwarranted, thought Janet, and she did not miss Mark’s glowering at the Quartermaster, something she would have reamed him for under different circumstances. “Whoever sent him won’t get away-”

“It was YOU!” the boy shouted loudly. “YOU ordered me to take this fucking thing to the Power Room!”

“Manners!” Janet snapped. The chain of command was still to be respected, even if this boy’s statement were true.

“Sorry miss,” he said carefully to her, but he was clearly resentful. “YOU ordered me to take this fucking thing to the Power Room, SIR!”

Janet would have cuffed the boy for insolence, but she waited it out instead, watching the Quartermaster carefully. He was looking between one and the other with a shocked expression on his face. “W-What? Come on now boy, you’re overwrought-”

“LEAVE ME ALONE!” The boy shrilled. He was clearly upset.

“SILENCE!” Janet roared, drowning the boy out. “BOTH OF YOU!” she roared again when the Quartermaster made as if to speak. “Derricks, I want you to find out who ordered this,” she said quickly, taking out her notepad to write some comments down on it. She made as if her attention was entirely on her pad, but as she wrote, she observed both of them.

The boy was glowering still at the Quartermaster.

“I can assure you that we’ll find out who ordered this ma’am. It’s dangerous to have an adult carry these things around alone, let alone a boy.”

Janet continued to write her comments down. She did not miss the glare the Quartermaster gave Mark. It hinted at repercussions later on, and Janet suspected more than ever, that the boy had been telling the truth. This simply confirmed her suspicions about the Quartermaster.

“Right,” She said with considerable emphasis. “I’ve written this up,” she added, snapping her fingers. One of her guards approached. “Deans, witness this.”

The guard nodded once. “Witnessed,” he said immediately, taking out his own pen and signing the statement she had written. She suspected the Quartermaster knew what she had just asked her guard to do, but of course, it was too late for that. “In addition ma’am, I overheard the conversation, and since I was clearly facing the hallway, I saw everything that went on here over the last few minutes.”

Janet was satisfied. Her guard was always reliable in situations such as these. She was done with the charade. “Good, now you can escort Quartermaster Derricks to the surface and eject him from the shelter. Abuse of manpower, lying to a superior officer, and bullying tactics.”

“Right away ma’am,” the guard replied, summoning with his hand another guard to assist him.

“No,” the quartermaster said quietly, quite clearly in shock. “No, you can’t do this.”

“I just did,” Janet snapped back at him.

“NO!” He made as if to grab Janet, scuffed her clothing, and threw a punch at the guards, who wrestled him to the ground. “Boy, if I ever see you again, I’ll kill you,” he seethed.

Janet would have been prepared to leave it at exile and forgotten the fact that this boy had previously been threatened by the Quartermaster if he had kept his mouth shut. Now she could not.

“When he gets to the surface, execute him,” she snapped before walking back to the meeting she had previously been attending, ignoring the screams coming from Derricks. Anyone would think he had been mortally wounded already the way he was carrying on.

Jason had just reached the shelter, staggering into the front gates. As he was entering the security checkpoint, he saw two of Janet’s personal guard escorting Quartermaster Derricks to the stocks, and the fat fuck was screaming and kicking all the way. Obviously he had been caught abusing manpower, but why was he being let off with the stocks, instead of being exiled? Janet Fletcher never allowed leniency in her shelter, and this seemed out of place…

Until both guards stood exactly twelve paces away. Jason knew what was coming at that point. One of them took out his side-arm out before firing it directly at the Quartermaster’s head. The screams and kicks stopped.

Jason never liked the Quartermaster anyway. About time Janet saw his bullying tactics and had his head blown away.

No time for that, now. He just had to get to Janet and inform her of what he and Dave had found before Dave had been killed by that… Monster he had seen. He ran in through the doors, stopping only to confirm his name and hand in his equipment lest the guard detail considered him hostile and shot him down. As soon as he was past the check-in though, he ran as quickly as he could and made his way down the ladder to the inhabited levels.

Once he reached the level where Janet’s offices would be, Jason plummeted through the doors into the admin section, running into her personal guards.

“Hold it,” one of the guards said, holding a rifle with a bayonet against Jason’s throat. “State your business.”

“Mensar, Jason. I need to see Janet right away!”

“That’s Ms. Fletcher to you, boy!” The guards weren’t giving in at all. “Why do you need to see the CO?”

Jason swallowed, trying to think of an answer that wouldn’t annoy the guards lest they sent him away. “I’ve to make an urgent report on my expedition. It can’t wait,” he told them, trying to keep the edge off of his voice.

The guard glowered. “Wait here, boy, and if you so much as move even an inch I’ll gut you with this bayonet. Clear?”

If this were another grunt from the general population, Jason would have snapped his neck. But this was no grunt; this was an Elite Soldier, one of Janet…. No, one of Ms. Fletcher’s personal guard. They would wipe the floor with him one handed in their sleep. And even if he could best one of them he would be executed on the spot on the grounds of mutiny. Instead, he said nothing, coming to rigid attention in mockery of the archaic pretence that passed for military hierarchy within the shelter.

It wasn’t long before the guard returned with Janet in tow. She glowered at Jason.

“What was so important that you couldn’t report it to the watch detail?” She snapped.

Jason swallowed. Now was not the time for bullshit.

“I gotta tell you what I saw up on the surface, sir,” Jason told Janet.

She seethed. How many times did she have to tell people in this decrepit shelter that she hated to be addressed as if she were a male?

She sighed for patience, and then asked her next question. “Now where the hell is your salvage partner this trip?”

Something alerted Janet to trouble. Something about Jason’s manner that was unusual for him. “Dave’s dead,” he replied grimly. “Murdered.”

Another capital offence to deal with, Janet thought grimly. “Explain,” she barked at Jason, though in the back of her mind, she suspected that Jason was a victim as much as David supposedly was.

“I don’t think I can,” Jason said morosely.

Janet doubted that he could explain without some prompting. “Come with me,” she told him, marching to her private office without a backward glance. She knew her guards would wait outside while she conducted her meeting, she just hoped that they wouldn’t have to force Jason to follow her, otherwise their mood would not be too good.

Jason minced in after her and she closed the door and gestured for him to be seated. “From the top Mr Mensar,” She told him in no uncertain terms.

“Right, well me and Dave were out on patrol across the north. We came across this building. I mean, a building right?”

Janet frowned. “Some buildings still exist above ground. Not many but some.”

“Ever seen one intact and not on a photo?”

This was unproductive. “Jason, this better be good.”

“I’m telling you the only damage this place had was painted on! The fucking thing was standing and everything else around it was collapsed, smashed. I’ve never seen a place in such good condition and it scared the hell out of me.”

Fair point, Janet thought. “Go on,” she told him.

“Right, so Dave goes off harin’ down to the entrance, right? And he goes inside. I couldn’t just leave him there so I chased after the fuckin’ idiot!” He was starting to tremble. Janet couldn’t very well talk to him if he was going to have a nervous breakdown so she stood and went to her locked cabinet, opened it as he sat there saying nothing, and took out a flask. Inside it was the second from last in the supply of Bourbon. Jason would need a drink by the looks of it, and Janet never drank so she would never miss it.

“Drink,” she ordered, waiting for him to take a swig of the stuff. He immediately coughed and started spluttering as the strength of the lethal stuff took hold of him momentarily. She waited for him to take another swig before she prompted him again. “Then what?”

“Then, we go inside, and Dave gets this crazy whacked out stupid fuckin' idea the mindless-”

“Jason!” Janet snapped. “Get a grip!”

Jason swallowed. He made a visible effort to calm himself. “Yeah, so he gets this stupid fuckin' idea to take a look at all this computer equipment that was turned on in the room, and all of a sudden the door slams shut and next thing I knew, Dave gets a bullet in the head.”

“Did you see who did it?”

“Yeah, but that wasn’t all.” Jason stopped, visibly swallowing. Janet gestured for him to take another swig of the alcohol. “So anyway,” he said after taking a gulp. “Dave falls to the ground, and so does the old man who shot him. And then this weird purple-y shit starts to appear around the old guy’s body, which starts to levitate…”

Janet began to frown. Jason wasn’t given to telling stories and this sounded like a fantasy.

“…and it rises up off of the floor, and the mist… You don’t believe me do you?”

“Mensar, just get on with it will you?” Janet sighed for patience.

Jason was on his feet, pacing. “No way man, you don’t fuckin’ believe me-”

“Take a seat and keep going-”

“-and you’re gonna send me to the docs and pump me full of meds-”

“SIDDOWN MENSAR, RIGHT NOW!”

Shocked to silence by the fierceness of Janet’s roar, Jason took a seat again, slowly.

Janet looked squarely at Jason. “Take some more of that flask and listen to me,” she told him in a commanding tone of voice. She went on as he drank. “Your honesty is not in question Mensar. One thing I’ve known about you since I took over the running of this place is you’ve never told any lies and you’ve never made up stories. You get what I’m sayin’?” Janet waited for Jason to absorb what she told him. He nodded. “Right, now what next?”

Jason took another gulp from the flask. “So yeah, the body starts to rise up off the floor surrounded by this mist that starts zippin’ across the room like it’s on somethin’ and it slows down and covers Dave’s body. And, you know, it stops comin’ out of the old man and starts goin’ into Dave’s body all over it, and then that starts to come up off the floor. It’s like I have no idea how the fuck that’s happenin’ but it is! And-and-and then, the body starts to turn, you know so it’s standin’ up? And the mist is still goin’ into him, like through his eyes, ears, mouth, everythin’. And then his arms and his muscles start to grow right in front of me, and I couldn’t move, you know?”

Jason stopped for a while, taking another swig of the alcohol. At this rate he’d be drunk, but it seemed to help keep him from bouncing off the walls.

“Then what?” Janet prompted.

“So when that’s done, he looks like some of those old pics that my sis used to keep on her wall, you know with those big guys that don’t look like anyone I ever met… And the mist is almost gone, and Dave opens his eyes and stares at me… But that ain’t Dave no more… The look he gave me… I couldn’t get out of there fast enough!”

Janet waited for more, but it seemed Jason had finished his retelling. “Did you come straight back?”

“No fuckin’ way, man!” Jason snapped. “I took a round-a-bout route through the city before I came back, but I don’t think it’s safe to stay any more.”

Janet was inclined to agree, if what Jason was saying was widespread, those creatures would run right over the population and leave no survivors. “I’ll order somethin’ done about this,” she told Jason.

“We can’t fight them, they’ll kill us all!” Jason’s tone was laden with fear, so unlike him that Janet was concerned enough she would follow his advice had she not already decided what to do.

“We’re not going to do that. Now get to your quarters and pack up, we’re evacuating the base,” she told him, opening the door and approaching one of her guards. “Sound the alarms and order everyone to pack up for evacuation to the surface.”

“Yes ma’am,” the guard replied immediately, despite the surprise expression on his face. The advantage of having an Elite Guard made up of people trained directly by navy SEALS was that the chain of command was strictly adhered to, and orders were promptly obeyed no matter what the orders were.