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STARCRAFT: EVOLUTIONS
CHAPTER 2
Hail and Farewell
1512 Zulu, Solarian Standard Time (SST)
August 14th, 2367
Liberty Starbase, geosynchronous orbit over Ithaca City
Sovereign world of Titan, Sol System
He concentrated on his breathing as the constant and intermittent rush of air blew around his uniform and slightly tousled his graying hair. The fabric of his service dress uniform felt new, the material and fit settling uncomfortably around his medium frame. He sighed loudly as he opened his eyes and looked to the floor indicator, 17th floor, almost there. Anxiety and doubt plagued him, the pain of losing someone close to him warring within him and his profound sense of duty. Wallowing in the crushing feeling around his heart for a moment, his shoulders sagged and his hands covered his face before a single barely perceptible sob escaped him. Then the veneer of military stoicism swept him back into a human statue, standing tall and the stony angles of his face and hard piercing eyes again revealing nothing. He gave a tug on his coat to straighten it moments before the lift doors opened with a whoosh. A gentle cacophony of gentle music and murmuring voices assailed him as he stepped from the lift onto the large observation lounge. Saturn and its rings loomed huge in the wall length window with one of its moons, Rhea, swinging into view as it revolved around its parent.
"Great view isn't it, Captain" An older man murmured, stepping up to stand beside him. "I never get tired of looking at it."
Captain Aidan Smith turned to the speaker, a plain looking man wearing a dark grey robe-like suit with the chain and pendant worn by all planetary ambassadors. His nose was rather large for his face, his skin was somewhat worn by age and a life of hard labor. He extended his hand as he nodded in greeting and was surprised at the strength in the man's callused hand.
"You are the ambassador of Titan, are you not?" Aidan asked, his eyebrow rose slightly inquisitively as he released the man's hand.
The man smiled a bit as he inclined his head, "Paul Seltzer, one time mechanic and SCV operator, now august representative of the sovereign state of Titan, at your service." He proclaimed, chuckling a bit at the last. "They almost made me take one of the Senate seats," he shook his head ruefully; "this was the least important position they would let me get away with. I'll tell you a secret though…" He leaned closer to Aidan, his voice lowering in a conspiratorial tone, "I have no idea what the hell I'm doing."
"That makes two of us." Aidan whispered.
The two men stood together in silence for a time, the room continuing to fill with people as the somber music played on, each of them lost in a universe of their own thoughts. A three toned whistle grabbed their attention, as several Senators from the newly formed Solarian Republic stood up on a raised dais near the center of the assemblage. The eldest among them, a woman whose long silver hair hung down to her waist and demeanor spoke of quiet strength, nodded to an unseen operator. The deck they stood upon rumbled slightly as the glass enclosure surrounding the deck expanded to reveal another deck below them. Decked in full ceremonial regalia, an honor guard of fifty marines stood at stiff attention, their black uniforms contrasting sharply with their silver polished rifles and gleaming accoutrements. Spread out on the deck around them were the black ovoid coffins of over 320 personnel, the majority of them empty of remains as many of the crew of the USS Republic could not be recovered. Each of them was draped with the flag of the new Republic and decorated with flowers and letters from loved ones and the honors granted to them by the new government. One of the coffins drew Aidan's gaze as none other could, the single red rose on the coffin laid there by a trembling Aidan earlier that day. He stared at it, as if to reconjure an image of her smiling face and willing the awful truth to fade form his memory and grant him surcease from sorrow. A single tear escaped his stony demeanor and rolled down his cheek as the senators took turns reading the names of the crew of the valiant USS Republic.
As echoes from the last name read from the scroll faded into the gentle hum of the Liberty, the commanding officer, Vice Admiral Juanita Rodriguez stood and moved with powerful strides despite her diminutive size to the center of the dais. She snapped to attention and swept the crowd with her gaze, every person in uniform also coming to attention. The marine detail below filed out, each flag having carefully been folded and collected to be given to friends and family. The deck vibrated as the stations massive 40mm cannons unleashed a salvo to honor the dead. Twice more, fiery shells lit up the space in front of the stations, the blasts arcing over Titan's North Pole and disappearing in the distance. A deep clang reverberated throughout the deck as the main airlock opened, the coffins lifting at tugging at their restraints as the atmosphere escaped from the room. Small jets ignited under each coffin, the restraints releasing them like maddened kites in a tornado. They flew off almost as one, flying in a cluster around the far end of Saturn and incandescing as they hit her outer atmosphere. Aidan had to admit that it was quite a beautiful display, a fitting way to say goodbye to good men and women…a good way to say goodbye to a friend.
0617 Zulu, Solarian Standard Time (SST)
August 21st, 2367
Artemis Port, Vergosa
Fomalhaut System, 25 light years from Sol
The sounds of heavy construction competed with the roar from the constant traffic of dropships and other vessels dropping off personnel and supplies from orbital stations. Vergosa was a wondrous world, with rich purplish skies from the exotic gasses that made up her atmosphere painting the landscape in similarly fantastic colors. To the uninitiated, the color mix was rather nauseating, some people having adverse reactions to the point of paranoia and panic. Most however had confidence in the atmospheric reprocessors that had been hard at work for four decades removing the deadly gasses from the air and replacing it with oxygen and nitrogen. Though mostly dry of liquid water, Vergosa had high concentrations of water slush trapped just beneath the surface, and as the atmosphere slowly changed to allow more of Fomalhaut's heat to remain trapped in a greenhouse effect, the permafrost began to recede and be replaced with shallow oceans. Here, nestled in a cove formed by the largest of the new oceans, Artemis Port was taking shape, the hardy colonists working diligently to reshape this world to their liking.
A cluster of men and women stood impatiently on one of the docking platforms of the main starport, their hands shielding their eyes from Fomalhaut's glare as they searched the skies. One pointed, and as the others followed the direction of their companion's arm, they began to excitedly chatter. Descending through the inky clouds above them, a gleaming blue transport craft emblazoned with the insignia of the Solarian Republic soared majestically towards the spaceport. A squadron of Wraith class fighters maintained their vigil above her, circling above as she came in for a landing. Almost as soon as the landing gear touched down on the pad, the men and women rushed forward, one of them narrowly avoided being crushed by the descending offload ramp. A distinguished looking man in a dark grey suit stepped into the light from the dark interior of the cabin, a wry grin tugging at his lips as he surveyed the crowd below him. He stepped forward onto the ramp, his blonde hair and shaped beard being painted a ghastly brown in the strange light. He frowned for a moment as he gazed at the odd coloring on his hand, and was promptly deluged by the chattering crowd, his frown fading in the contagious excitement they had.
"Andrew Townes I presume?" a scholarly looking older man asked, stepping forward from among the cheering onlookers.
"Yes I am, and you are?" He answered with a smile, their hands clasping in a firm and warm handshake.
"Peter Stukov, Director of Sciences and very pleased to be receiving you this fine day. I am so glad that the Senate has so honored me and my colleagues by taking our petition so seriously."
"Believe me Director; the Senate and the President both are very interested in what technologies the UED has shunted away in this place."
Andrew gazed around the platform for a moment before smiling back at the director and motioning with his head to the other passengers disembarking from the Senatorial craft.
"Ah, here we are. Director Stukov, these are the other members of the Senate Committee on Research and Technologies. Of course you know that we are here as your guests and not to intrude on your work here."
"Of course, of course! I know you must be tired from long journey here, but if you and the committee could indulge us for but a moment, we have an exciting breakthrough we've been preparing for weeks in anticipation of your arrival."
The two groups merged and began to move off of the platform, both Townes and Stukov's heads bent toward each other as they spoke excitedly. They all loaded into a bullet tram, the tracks winding their way through and around the growing city in a dizzying display of loops and whorls. As the last Senator stepped on, pulled by a very earnest and excited young woman, the tram whooshed off straight into the heart of the city. The buildings surrounded the tram were so massive, that even with the blurring speed of the tram; it took many seconds to pass any of the growing structures. The tram suddenly slowed as it dipped into a low curve, a huge building dominated by a crystalline dome rising into view and reflecting the purplish light like a massive amethyst.
"The Goldman-Steyer Research Institute," Peter delightfully informed them, "where we have uncovered things both wondrous and hideous. We have a special display for you just inside."
The tram traveled inside the lower levels of the dome, the expansive panorama of the interior taking their breaths away. Within the crystalline shell which was not visible from the outside, the senators noted, was a blue sky streaked with wispy clouds and a bright yellow sun. To their wonder and amazement, they could feel the heat from the artificial sun shining on them and a gentle zephyr tug at their hair. Peter beamed at the senators with and spoke with a growing pride burgeoning with his every word.
"We found that a simple modification to the display systems gave us a very inspiring skylight. The heat and light wind is a simple matter of plugging in a randomizing algorithm in the environmental control system. Sometimes it can be a bit cooler. People seemed to work better and be happier when they can be reminded of where we all came from. We don't keep it like this all the time. But enough of that, this isn't what we wanted you to see," He gestured for several of the other people surrounding the senators to get moving, "this way please."
The crowd of scientists and senators followed the sprightly step of Stukov as he excitedly yammered at them, pointing out different areas of interests as they traversed the massive interior of the Goldman-Steyer Research Institute.
"Ah, here we are," Stukov proclaimed grandly, his arms extending wide to encompass a large polished neosteel door, a massive security mechanism dominating the circular portal, "beyond these doors is one of the most exciting developments I have had the privilege of overseeing. I hope you'll be pleased, I think you will."
He turned toward the door and began the archaic and esoteric process of bypassing the many security measures protecting the chamber within. He carefully turned what appeared to be a large dial with numerous pips representing numbers while pressing his thumb against an identifying plate. After a few moments, he sighed in frustration and whirled the dial, hunching down to more carefully examine the dial as he turned it. The committee members looked at each other in barely hidden amusement while the other scientists flushed in embarrassment as Stukov cursed and whirled the dial again, forcefully. Finally, he stepped back with a self-satisfied huff, the internal mechanism of the door clunking as the locks disengaged. With a metallic rumble, the door rolled to the left, the interior lights of the chamber lighting up the room and exposing the deceptively small lab.
"After you Mr. Townes, mind your step there." Peter proclaimed, bowing and sweeping his arm gracefully as he stepped inside and to the side to admit the rest of the party.
The roughly circular chamber was 20 meters in diameter with a 10 meter ceiling, its walls and ceiling made from machined neosteel with support struts every 5 meters along its circumference. The outer ring of the room was separated by a thick railing, many of which had small computer consoles inset every few meters. The center of the room was the true center of attention. A circular pedestal several meters in diameter dominated the room and was surrounded by a visible field of force, the surface of the table seemingly empty.
"If you could just squeeze around there," Peter Stukov gestured around the room, "we'll try and make room for everyone, make sure you can see the center console there.
As the scientists and senators filled the area, Stukov moved to a larger console opposite the main door and began to work; occasionally looking over his shoulder to see how they were fitting into the room. Satisfied that everyone was in a good position to view the demonstration, he nodded to a technician standing by the door, who turned and closed the circular portal and dimmed the lights.
Stukov took a deep breath and after a final look around at the attentive faces of his audience, paying special note to Alexander Townes' expression, he initiated the device. The force field around the pedestal shimmered almost imperceptibly as the power in the room noticeably dropped, the already dim lights dimming further. Light green rays slowly began to extend from the surface of the pedestal and arrange themselves into a complex geometric shape, the surfaces being filled in as each side was completed. Soon, a representation of a small ground car sat on the pedestal, the type of utility vehicle that was quite common in colonial areas for its ruggedness and ease of use. As they continued to watch, the lighted surfaced began to ripple and flicker as the green light was replaced by a solid seeming metal that flowed in tiny rivulets across the model.
"Director, I'm not sure what it is that I'm looking at." Alexander whispered, his eyes never leaving the display.
"You'll see Mr. Townes, it's nearly done."
The last of the green light was overcome by the flowing metal and as the light faded, it revealed a miniature model of the utility vehicle in perfect detail. The force screen protecting the pedestal vanished with a shimmer, releasing the collective breaths of the onlookers in a profound sigh. They were all perplexed at what they had just seen, turning to each other quizzically as Peter Stukov literally bounded to the center display and proudly held up his model.
"Do you know what this is!" Stukov cried excitedly.
"Um, not really, no… I am anxious to hear your explanation though." Alexander replied.
"I know that this is just a model and in itself not really impressive and certainly not worth having you make the long journey here. The issue of interest here is not in the model but rather how the model came to be here. You see, this model only existed as a pattern in the computer as of a few moments ago. Drawing from tanks of raw material which are hidden behind some panels surrounding this room, the computer used small force fields and light projectors to create a three dimensional model of the ground car, laying the foundation for our truly magnificent discovery." Peter intoned, adopting a lecturer's stance as he excitedly explained.
"The suspense is killing us Director!" Alex laughed, drawing chuckles from both the other scientists and senators.
"This model was built by nanites;" He nodded sagely as he waited for the full impact of that term to sink into their minds, "that's right, microscopic machines programmed at the moment of their creation for a specific task, in this case, to build us this model. We've explored numerous other applications for this science and have successfully injected a series of nanites into living cells. The results were quite impressive, we preprogrammed the nanites to reconstruct the living tissue only on certain very narrow perimeters; this will allow a cell to naturally age and divide without the nanites interfering. But in the case of trauma, wherein the cell is exposed to lethal radiation, force or other non-natural means, the nanites successfully utilized a minimum amount of adenosine tri-phosphate, which as some of you may or may not know is what our cells produce for energy, to power themselves and rebuild the cell and restored it to pre-trauma condition. To test this application on a wider scale, we grew some small tissue samples in our lab; partial lungs, kidney, skeletal and muscle tissue for example. The nanites were able to reconstruct the original tissue even after almost complete destruction of the tissue itself. Now, I have to say this much, in the case of complete destruction, say in the case of a nuclear blast or similar phenomena or maybe just an intense fire, the nanites themselves were destroyed and obviously were unable to affect this level of repair. Secondly, you see the obvious benefit here in my hand. Nanites are not limited to the size of the object that is desired, we would simply use more of them. For example, we used approximately 3.2 million nanites for this model. Larger objects would take a correspondingly larger number of nanites to produce the same effect in a similar timeframe. Unfortunately at a certain point we reach the absolute limit of reliable control once we achieve about 17 trillion nanites, which is sufficient to construct say… a modest home or transport spacecraft in about 18 hours. That time would of course be shortened if we limit the nanites to only certain portions of the construction process. I estimate that the current modernization program the Republic Stellar Navy is undergoing would greatly benefit from this technology, cutting the times of their refits and new construction by more than 80."
One of the senators then cleared his throat and asked, "That is absolutely unbelievable Director! How did this come about? Surely you and your team didn't completely achieve this research in the few months you've been here!"
"Of course not", Peter replied, "the foundation of this technology was developed at the Lake of Tranquility research labs on Luna by anonymous private researchers before their work was seized and sealed by the UED. I suppose that the UED felt that this potentially destabilizing technology could not be allowed into any hands and instead of exploiting it and risk every power in the Orion arm to obtain it, secreted it away here until our team came upon it. The vital notes led us in the right direction and allowed us to complete the work the researcher on Luna finished."
"You said, anonymous private researchers Director, is there no mention of them in the notes you found?"
"Well, Senator Townes, in keeping with UED doctrine of the time, I believe that the scientists were met with unfortunate accidents to keep them from continuing their work. As a scientist working on the Yamato project years ago, I am well aware of some of the methods employed by them to keep things the way they wanted it."
Peter Stukov sighed and dropped his head into his hands for a moment before continuing, his voice muffled as he continued to speak.
"It was a long time ago and the sins of the past are being swept away by the promise of a better today. Though the UED only fell a short time ago, life is already so much better than it was before. My colleagues and I's work is our part to ensure our future. Albert Einstein once wrote that he believed our technology exceeded our humanity. Now, hundreds of years later we find ourselves finally at the point where technology has to catch up. It really is an exciting time to be alive."
As he finished his demeanor brightened, his hands moving away from his head and the solemn frown replaced by a profound grin.
"Well, I think I can honestly say that the rest of the committee and I, "Townes began sweeping his gaze to include the already nodding other senators, "will be pleased to remain here and complete our investigation of your work here. Though we've haven't yet begun, this work is absolutely amazing and it will reflect in our report to the Senate. I wouldn't be surprised if the funds and material support you've asked for shows up at Artemis Port with the Senate's blessings and a big red ribbon wrapped around it."
0932 Zulu, Solarian Standard Time (SST)
September 1st, 2367
Dropship Hermes on route to Earth
Jupiter Orbit, Sol System
"Captain Smith? Just thought you'd like to know that we are entering inner Jupiter orbit, estimate Earth in about 6 hours sir."
"Thank you Lieutenant." Aidan replied dismissively, his mind far away.
The gentle rumble of the modified dropship relaxed him as he reclined on the passenger seat of the passenger section of the refitted passenger dropship. The funeral services seemed to have drained him of any concern, even the news of his beloved Achilles' impending decommissioning ceremony at Earth failing to draw more than a raised eyebrow, his usual response to disturbing news as of late. "I've been attending far too many funerals lately," he thought to himself, "one too many at least." The sight of his dearest friend falling in her burning ship towards Earth echoed itself in his eyes whenever he lost focus, which was often. His heart ached at the dreams unrealized, the words unspoken, everything he had felt for her over the years to remain unexpressed and chained within his heart now forever. He looked out of the view port to see Callisto rising from behind the orange mass of Jupiter, its dark side failing to show the city lights with the reflected glare from its parent.
"Sir", the pilot interrupted his reverie again, no doubt to regale him with useless facts of Jupiter or Callisto or any number of inane jabbering small talk the young man had tried to impress him with during the journey, "I'm sorry to bother you again sir but we're experiencing some technical difficulty. Our communications and transponder array just went offline again; I'm going to have to make port with Daedalus station and get it looked at before we can continue. Sorry about the delay."
"It's alright Lieutenant, these old dropships never were the most reliable."
"Roger that sir." Aidan could almost hear the grin in the pilot's voice.
0945 Zulu Solarian Standard Time (SST)
September 1st, 2367
Daedalus Testing Range, Callisto orbit
Sol System
Gleaming blue and silver daggers arced through the veil of starlit night over the calm cityscapes of Callisto, the pale blue streamers of their powerful engines cutting a swath through the darkness. The new Kestrel class space superiority fighters flew in an inverted "V" formation, the twelve fighters of the 435th Flight Test Squadron engaging in tactical maneuvers in their final test runs while monitored by Daedalus, the large space station in Callisto orbit.
"Commander Yong, this is Daedalus monitor 3, we have all the data we need, you are clear to proceed to phase 2."
Aboard the station, a line of monitors above the armored glass windows showed the relative positions of Callisto, the Kestrel squadron and the armed drones waiting for them near Callisto's pole.
"Hey, keep an eye open, I'm going to grab a cup of joe."
A woman of middle years declared to the others, three other women and two men as she rose from her console and headed for the coffee machine.
"Sure thing, grab me one too would ya?" An older man asked, his eyes not leaving the display. He heard her mumbled reply as a distant echo as his focus shifted fully onto the display before him. His monitor was collecting tactical data on the fighters and would be a valuable tool in tweaking the fighter's systems after their performance was measured up against the target drones. A soft clink to his left and the aroma of dark coffee barely intruded on his concentration as he mumbled thanks. He gave a loud yelp as his attention was abruptly ripped away from his console and sent glaring to his left where one of his colleagues stood pointing emphatically out the window.
"What the hell are you doing?" He demanded crossly.
"Shut up and look! What the hell is that?"
He glared for a second before allowing his gaze to follow the woman's finger. He squinted his eyes as his mind tried to identify the blip swiftly approaching the testing range between the drones and the fighters, his ire vanishing with the mystery.
"Why, that's a dropship…A DROPSHIP! What the! Get on the comm., their in the way!" He shouted, jumping up from his seat and dumping piping hot coffee all over the console and his lap. He ignored the flash of pain as he stumbled over to the communications station, jostling the operator and yelling at the window.
"Unidentified spacecraft! You are entering a live test range, move yourself to Z-20 degrees and await further instruction," the woman paused, waiting for a response. Getting nothing but static, she tried again, "Unidentified spacecraft! I repeat! You are entering a live fire test range! Pull off immediately! They're not responding!" She wailed.
"Call those fighters off! Have them disengage immediately!"
"Oh god, it's too late…" she moaned, her hands covering her mouth in horror as the fighters opened up on the dropship with their pulse laser cannons.
1350 Zulu, Solarian Standard Time (SST)
September 3rd, 2367
City of San Angeles, Callisto
Sol System
Sibilant whispers caress away the pain and grief and staving away for a moment the despair that claws in his depths. The echoes that wash over him tingles the nerves in his skin like a lover's breath on his neck, the light touch raising the flesh of his skin and sending arcs of electric sensation tickling across the synapses of his body. His mind flashed, a woman's face darkened by shadow and wreathed in blades smiles at him, a gentle murmur of promise and love weakening guilt's hold over him. The touch is lost, the echoes fading into the cold walls of the cell that contain him and support him. Without prelude the shocking chill of bare metal assails his skin through the threadbare rags of his uniform, the shimmering cascade of force a window to twin expressions of contempt. Two armored marines, their faces set in stone fix him with a hard glare, reclining behind a desk on the other side of the field, eyes locking onto his.
"Looks like he's back with us." One guard remarked to the other, his voice carefully neutral.
"Looks that way," the other answers flatly, "How are you feeling Commander?"
Lieutenant Commander Kim Yong stares back at them for a moment, comprehension not finding a hold in his consciousness. He blinks away the last vestiges of his nightmare and finds himself in another nightmare, a very real nightmare of guilt and the anguish of a terrible mistake whose cost will come too dear for him to take.
"Well, "the guard continues, glancing at the chronometer mounted on the wall above Yong's cell, "it's nearly time for you to meet the inquiry board. We're going to let you out now so you can get ready, I don't want to have to sedate you again Commander, I know how terrible you must feel, just remember that it was an accident. You know these inquiry boards are standard procedure and having that much guilt over something you had no control over is ridiculous. Now, are you going to play nice and make our job easier? The last thing we need is for you to make an ass of yourself again."
Commander Yong nodded his head; the shame of his earlier behavior coloring his cheeks and ears in shades of crimson so deep it seemed to burn him. After the accident at Daedalus three days ago, he had tried to leave the station through an airlock, the lack of anything between him and open space not creating the slightest dent in his determination to get out. It took four security personnel to drag him out of the airlock, kicking and screaming, the overwhelming desire to end the soul crushing guilt lending strength to his punches and kicks. A light buzz heralded the lowering of the force field that kept him imprisoned, a wary looking guard holding the commander's service dress uniform in his left arm like a suspicious maitre' de. Kim sighed to himself as he heaved up to his feet with a grunt; the ache in his joints a poignant testimony to his sojourn in custody. He nodded slightly in a suitability chastened demeanor to the uniformed security officer as he took his uniform from him, the fresh smell of the cloth bringing him some measure of dignity back. A few minutes later, after he had dressed and processed out of the guard's jurisdiction, he strode with purpose towards the tram station to meet with the inquiry board, determined to meet his destiny with head held high.
0647 Zulu, Solarian Standard Time (SST)
September 4th, 2367
Lackland Aerospace Training Base, Texas, Earth
Sol System
A sudden impact on his legs left him teetering for a moment, a surprised cry escaping his lips as his razor jerked, slicing a tiny strap of skin from his cheek. He looked down at the tangled monster wrapped around his legs and tried to extricate himself from the little tornado. A brown mop of hair stood out on his smiling boy's face as the little tornado stood up and clapped happily at his father. The man grinned back at his son before mocking a terrifying face, the boy squealing happily as he sprinted straight into the wall, bounced off and careened around the doorway from the bathroom, his yell diminishing as he plummeted as fast as his 2 year old legs could carry him. The man frowned into the mirror as he examined his face, droplets of blood contrasting sharply with the bits of shaving cream still on his jaw. He wiped away the blood and slapped a bandage on it, rinsing his face of the lather and toweling away the mess.
"Robbie! You come back here with that, you…." Another childish squeal punctuated the toddler's response to his mother, the sound of his fat little legs pumping furiously preceding him back to the bathroom, where he once again collided with his father. Clutched in his little hands was a pair of his mother's lingerie, the mischievous glimmer in his eyes matched only by his father's at seeing what his son had taken.
"Now son, running off with your mom…err…stuff is not how we behave. Now let me have that and go tell mom that you're sorry."
What followed was one of many ridiculous moments of parenthood, a grown man trying to take something from a mere child, the little boy successfully dodging and evading his dad by erratically waving the dainty underwear every which way. Finally, after an exasperated sigh that only a parent understands and other adults only "think" they understand, he snatches up his squirming son and holds him in a tight hug, finally getting a hold of the prize of the battle. Wailing at the unfairness of the universe, the toddler squirms all the harder, trying to wriggle his way out of his dad's arms. Kissing the boy while he has the chance, he finally lets him down, only to have Robbie berate him with an emphatic, "No No!" his chubby little hands accentuating the point with a dramatic wave.
"Robbie Wilkins!"
"It's alright Hun, I got it from him!" he calls back, staring after Robbie's back, the boy's attention already shifted elsewhere.
"No, you're going to be late for work!"
"No, I'm not…Oh shit!" he cries, looking at his watch and realizing the time. He leapt over the bed and grabbed his BDU (battle dress uniform) shirt and vaulted back over it to dash out the bedroom door, tugging on the shirt while unsuccessfully scanning the dining room for his key card.
"Louise! Have you seen my keys?"
He casts about, searching with his eyes while simultaneously patting down his pockets, looking up to see his wife of seven years holding the object of his search with something approaching smugness. He smiles at her and snatches the keys, pecking her on the cheek before flying out the front door.
"Robbie, be good for mom! I'll see you later sweetheart!" He calls, climbing into his sky blue Buick, it's somewhat rounded box design an attempt by auto manufacturers to stir nostalgia in the early days. According to the salesperson he bought it from, it was a modern replica of the 1952 Buick Road master series, excluding only the white walled wheels (wheels having little place on a hover car).
The hover car lifted off the pad with a soft whoosh, the sounds of an old style internal combustion engine reverberating from under the hood to give the illusion of power. He swung it about, the ultra clean Buick yawing gracefully in the air before rocketing up and into the lanes of a mass of hover cars speeding thousands of people throughout the early morning skies of Texas.
"Engage auto-drive, work." He intoned as his hands left the controls and crossed behind his head, his seat leaning back in anticipation of his need for comfort. He yawned widely as he searched the satellite stations for his morning news channel, the old fashioned dials of the controls a further attempt to remind owners of the glory days of the antique gas guzzlers. Louise loved the car even more than he did, the memory of her wide eyed stare when he drove it home for the first time bringing a smile and another memory of a time not so long ago.
"Where are we anyway?" A younger Louise asked, the new car smell engulfing her as she sat next to him.
"We're parked on a bluff overlooking the metro," he replied without looking, "I did some research and found out that young people used to come up here a hundred years ago and looked out at the lights of the city."
"I admit that it's a nice view, but I have a hard time believing that people came out here just for the view." She looked at him, eyebrow raised and head cocked in a disbelieving look.
"Well…that's not ALL they did." He smiled amorously and leaned into her, his lips coming down onto hers with a sudden passion.
"Oh my…" She murmured as her lips and body responded in kind, "I think I might like this place."
Nine months later, little Robbie made his debut at Wilford Hall hospital on Lackland, the screaming bloody bundle of new life opening new channels of love in his parents, who could only coo at him as he yelled at the top of his lungs, as if very unhappy about being out in the world. Sean chuckled at himself at the memories that followed, the fumbling absurdity associated with new parents trying not to break their delicate infant as they went about changing diapers or feeding. A warning bleep shook him from his reverie, the sight of one of the security gates of Lackland coming up sharply in his windshield. He disengaged the auto and gripped the hand controls with his left hand as he placed his campaign hat squarely onto his head with his right, a sigh escaping his lips at the thought of facing another new crop of fresh recruits.
1647 Zulu, Solarian Standard Time
September 4th, 2367
Holy City of Lhasa, Tibet, Earth
Sol System
The wind whistled forlornly as it whipped loose snow about the mountain ridge, expressing its chagrin that its domain was being invaded by a small huddle of boys and girls sitting quietly as if in meditation. They sat in a rough semi-circle, their bodies poised even as they sat in a lotus position, their hands resting comfortably in their laps as their eyes tracked unerringly to the middle aged man who sat at the focus of their half circle. Each of them wore nothing but threadbare robes that served mainly to whip wildly in the wind and did nothing to protect them from the bitter cold. Even their feet were bare as they listened to the grey robed man's words. Though the man whispered, his words carried with crystal clarity to each of them, defeating the wind and its incessant howling. The chill failed to affect any of them, not even their skin reacting to the icy touch of the thin mountain air.
"All there is, and all there is not, all is bound and yet unbound in the eternal mystery of the one consciousness. All that we feel, think, desire, even remember, are merely expressions of this consciousness. The world at our feet and the endless expanse of the stars above are just manifestations of the single consciousness, a rippling fabric that is easily manipulated and understood once you learn to touch the source and become one with the true self. Let your mind disconnect from the prison of the material, of what we have for so long determined as 'reality'. Stretch out with your feelings and your thoughts to encompass the group. Allow yourself to feel what they feel, think what they think. Let the beat of their hearts be the beat of your heart, let the essence of what we are surround you and infuse you. By touching the one, by seeing the current flow of the great ocean of existence and becoming one with the single consciousness you will begin to understand. Space and time are illusions. From stars were we born and to stars are we consigned to return. We are all one."
The older man nodded in appreciation of his students, a slight tinge of pride coloring his perception of the one consciousness and passing to the others of the group. He cleared his thoughts and let the mountain seep in, the grand majesty of the ancient peak filling him with its presence. He passed the presence on to his students, the feel of the mountain leaving them gasping with astonishment as they 'felt' the mountain beneath them as if it were a living thing, as if they were the mountain.
"Not as if," The teacher calmly expressed, his thoughts touching each of them, "you are the mountain."
He felt it coming before it came into view, the echoes of force along the fabric of existence tickling his senses and focusing his attention to a distant arrival. He let go of his physical eyes and opened himself more fully to the One, the space between him and the approaching ship dissolving away as if it did not exist. It was a military craft, one of the newer Courier class Transports cleaving through the skies with powerful yet quiet engines. It veered starboard, its course directing it unerringly toward the mountain nestled temple below them.
"That is all for today, return to the temple and resume your duties." He stood up and brushed the snow from his robes, continuing to gaze in the direction of the approaching ship.
"At last, humanity is ready, and we are ready to serve humanity" He thought to himself, as his enhanced vision watched the shuttle land amidst several other monks who stood by to greet their guest, "The Order of the Ka Kun Skyed Byed stands ready."
(Ka translates to 'one' in Tibetan, found in the Dharma translation. Kun Skyed Byed means Consciousness or Imagination, specifically that which is all producing or all pervasive)
