The Agathon: Book One (10 page)

“Contact incident with The Black,” he continued.

“Right. I’ll have him locked down. Don’t worry. Where will he be?”

“It’s Bobby Shields. He’s coming in the RV bay, ETA... hang on.” Barrington looked over at one of the young men manning one of the stations.

“Eight minutes, sir,” he answered the commander.

“Eight minutes, Doc.”

“Gotcha, I am on my way.” The comms bleeped again.

“Barrington to RV bay.”

A young female answered. “RV bay, go ahead.”

“Clear all personnel, I repeat ALL personnel immediately and seal off all airlocks. You have five minutes. Leave the main bay doors open.”

“Yes, sir,” came the programmed response.

“Okay, folks, let’s lock it down,” he called to his staff. Lights in the control room flickered to red. The commander tapped a few commands into his control panel. A hailing noise filled the control room.

“This is John Barrington to all colonial personnel. The base is on lockdown until further notice. I repeat. The base is on lockdown until further notice. No unauthorised movement in or out of the facility without my express consent. Doctor Tyrell, please report to main RV bay immediately. Barrington out.” With that, he made his way to the door.

“Llewellyn, I need you to keep working on the system preps for the incoming transits from Phobos. You’re in charge here until I get back,” he said to an attractive female officer at a control screen in front of him.

“Yes, sir,” she replied.

“Can I do anything?” Carrie asked.

“Yes, you can. Come with me. I need you to be there when Bobby comes in.”

Main Vehicle Hangar

Aquaria Base

18:45 Martian Standard

The
assembled group stood looking through the glass into the RV hangar. Tyrell was last to arrive and stood next to Barrington and Doctor Michelle Brubaker, the chief medical officer. A fiery woman in her early fifties, she kept her curly, greying hair tightly pulled back in a hair clip and her hands firmly planted in the pockets of her white coat. The large enclosure held a fleet of thirteen vehicles of various design, depending on the type of work required on the surface. Carrie was standing beside her father with her arms tightly folded. She looked worried. They waited outside the main airlock viewing room and watched as the trail of dust from the incoming RV made its way towards them.

“Get ready to hit the door,” said Barrington, as he watched. Doctor Brubaker placed her hand on the hangar door release panel and waited. In a whirlwind of red dust the RV sped into the hangar and swerved, narrowly missing another smaller version of itself before coming to a grinding halt.

“Hit it, Doc,” he said to Brubaker, who hit the control panel, bringing down the main hangar door. Silence surrounded the bay as the dust settled on the ground. Barrington could see Bobby in the vehicle, with his faceplate resting against the steering column.

“I’m going in,” said Brubaker, as she made her way into the airlock.

“Hang on, Doctor,” Barrington said, grabbing her arm. He hit a button on a control panel in front of him, which bleeped.

“Bobby. This is Barrington. Can you hear me?” His voice carried into the hangar bay over the loud speakers.

“He could be hurt, John. I need to get in there,” said Brubaker.

“Not yet, Doctor,” said Barrington, asserting authority in his voice.

“Bobby?” he repeated. The figure in the vehicle raised his head and looked over to the commander.

“Yes, sir, I can. I’m okay,” came a stumbled reply. Barrington waited.

“John, please,” said Brubaker.

“Okay, Doc, in you go. Do a visual before you make contact. Everyone else stay here.” He turned to the hangar and pressed the comms.

“Bobby, stay where you are. I’m sending the doctor in. Do not remove your faceplate until instructed to. Understand?” A nod from the young man satisfied the commander. The airlock hissed and Brubaker made her way over to Bobby, who had swung around and was sitting on the edge of the vehicle.

“What do you think, Tyrone?” Barrington asked Tyrell, still watching the RV bay. Tyrell drew a long breath.

“Unknown, John. There’s no reason to believe that The Black is a contagion. Then again, we know very little about it. I’m afraid I have very little to offer at this juncture. My instinct tells me that Mr. Shields is perfectly fine. If a little shaken.”

Brubaker reached the RV and placed a hand on Bobby’s shoulder. She removed a medical scanning instrument from her shoulder bag and began taking readings. A few minutes later, she turned to the commander.

“John, I am not showing any signs of infection or injury. I think we can get him to the medical bay.”

He turned to Carrie. She was crying.

“He’s terrified,” she said.

Media
l Bay

19.30 Martian Standard

“It moved,” Bobby said. He was lying on a diagnostic bed, now out of his atmo suit. Tyrell’s face changed to one of fascination.

“In what way?” he asked. Barrington put his hand up and motioned for the doctor to hold questions.

“Bobby, just start from the beginning. Take a breath and slowly recount everything that happened.”

The Englishman began slowly recounting the events to the captive audience. At the end Barrington looked at Tyrell.

“Thoughts?” he asked. Tyrell stood and watched the patient.

“It would seem the beast has awoken. Commander, with your permission, I would like to return to my lab to run some tests.”

Barrington thought for a moment. “Tyrell, if that stuff shows any sign of movement, I want it incinerated. You are not authorised to remove it from its containment chamber. I want someone there with you at all times and right now I want options for transportation of The Black off base.”

Tyrell looked annoyed. “John, I don’t think it poses any immediate threat. It would appear that it was reacting to defend itself from what it perceived to be a direct attack. I really don’t
think
—”

Barrington interrupted. “Those are your instructions, Doctor. We have incoming from the Phobos base and several inbound craft with survivors aboard. The risk to life on this base is too great to start fucking around with an aggressive life form that has cost lives.” Carrie looked surprised at the force in her father’s voice. Barrington knew that he had momentarily lost his cool in front of everyone and drew a breath.

“Please, Tyrone. Just do as I ask.” Tyrell nodded and promptly
left. The commander tapped his comm link. “Barrington to Meridian.”

“Chase here, go ahead, John.”

“Chase, can you meet Doctor Tyrell at his lab, please? He requires your assistance.” He glanced back and watched the frustrated Tyrell leave. He was muttering something under his breath. He reached the exit and turned back.

“If you don’t mind, Commander, I could also use Carrie’s assistance in the lab at her earliest convenience.”

“Of course, I will send her over in twenty minutes.” He turned back to Bobby who was watching the exchange.

“Get some rest and, when you’re ready to get back on your feet, we will talk some more.”

“Thank you, sir,” he said nodding.

“What do we do about Lorenzo Fraine?” Carrie asked her father. The commander didn’t answer.

“Barrington to Aquaria.” His comms blipped

“Llewellyn here.”

“Put out a
colony
-wide alert that The Black cave is under quarantine. No personnel are permitted to go near it. Change all the access codes to the entrance. Get a munitions team together. I want the entrance to the cave blasted and sealed off.”

“Yes, sir,” came a prompt response.

“You sure about that?” asked Carrie.

Her father nodded.

5

Phobos

Time since
evacuation
-Three days

07:13 Martian Standard

D
aniel Tosh climbed into his chair, which he had set at ground level for ease of access. He glanced out of the porthole and looked out at the white rocky surface of the
potato
-shaped moon below. The comforts of the Jycorp Orbital platform greatly outdid the base on the surface and he was glad to have some distance between himself and the Monolith. The morning had started early with evacuation briefings due to take up the majority of his day. He poured himself a cup of black Columbian coffee. One of the few natural supplies of the stuff he had left which he had brought from home.

He absorbed the rich aroma and allowed himself the simple moment of pleasure before embarking out into the chaotic scenes in the main corridors of the space station. He made his way through the hustle and bustle of the crew preparing equipment for transport down the Martian surface. One of the
passers
-by knocked into his chair and excused himself apologetically. He was a young man in his early twenties. A junior signal analyst by the name of George Orwell. He had noted the name. They had met briefly enough and had some minor interaction. Enough for Tosh to remember he had parents back on Earth and that this was his first space assignment. He had remembered that he still had wonder in his eyes. Not today though. He saw only strain and dark rings signifying less sleep than normal.

Tosh gestured a polite wave to the frantic man and moved past him on his way to Jerome Young’s office on the second level of the station. When he arrived, he was greeted by Young’s personal security. Two
thickly
-muscled men stood ominously at the entrance. Their eyes locked onto Tosh like a magnet, and glared at him as he approached. Although he been there many times and greeted the two men in a friendly way each time, they still treated him with suspicion at each encounter. Tosh had also been fascinated by their total lack of personalities. Robotic minds.
That’s what it takes to take a bullet
, he thought to himself. He looked up at the huge men.

“Morning, gentleman. How’s the weather up there?” he quipped. They gave him a blank stare and signalled his arrival to Young. After an awkward few seconds, they stood abreast and let him enter. The door closed behind him and he found Young, with a similar smelling coffee, at his desk.

“Tough crowd,” he said lightly. Young looked up.

“Huh?” he asked.

“Never mind. How are you this morning? Any word from the chancellor?”

“Not yet,” Young replied.

“She is still two days away. Emerson is working on breaking through the radiation, so I may have something later. Barrington has had another death down there. Some lunatic decided it was a good idea to perform acoustic bombardment on The Black up close and personal. Turns out it didn’t react too well and attacked in some way. Seems it has a few tricks up its sleeve that it hasn’t shared with us.”

“Christ,” replied Tosh.

“Any reaction from the other samples at the colony?” he asked.

“None. Tyrell says it’s an isolated incident.” Tosh settled his chair in front of Young’s desk.

“Any good news?” Young sighed and sat back in his chair, which tilted into a reclining position.

“Everything is trying to kill us, my friend.” He smiled.

“But the coffee is excellent.” Tosh, realising the desperate nature of their circumstances, began to laugh. Young joined him. The two friends sat and laughed, neither knowing what else to do. They expended their nervous energy and sat silently for a moment. Young spoke first.

“We’ll have everyone off in a week. I have reassigned most of the personnel directly to The Agathon, to speed up completion, so I think we will have everyone off base by the end of the week. I want to stay as long as possible, to make sure the data from the Monolith is safely accumulated. I will transport the pods myself to the surface.” He looked at Tosh. “Sorry make that WE’LL transport the pods to the surface OURSELVES.”

Tosh raised his hands. “You will get no argument out of me. In a strange way, it would appear that I owe you my life. It was your
hair
-brained idea to bring me up to this hunk of rock in the first place, so you lead and I will follow. Mars would not have been my first choice to live the rest of my days, but seeing as it too will shortly cease to exist...” he trailed off, gesturing.

“What better way to send off the great Daniel Tosh than a huge spaceship traveling at the speed of light,” said Young smiling.

“Here, here!” toasted Tosh. The tone changed

“What is the head count for all personnel, including both space stations and incoming craft?” asked Young.

Tosh looked grim. “Well we’ve got around two thousand colonists below on the Martian surface. Another fifteen hundred up here on the Jycorp station, around nine hundred on the science station and six hundred on the moon surface. I don’t know how many are incoming, but if we say another thousand or so, that’s around the six thousand mark.” Young looked down at his desk, waiting for Tosh to get to the point.

“The Agathon, if she ever becomes
space
-worthy, can take maybe two thousand tops. She wasn’t built to save the human race.”

“Okay then,” said Young.

“The obvious way to tackle the short term issues here is to load up the two stations and prepare for a long burn to break the two orbits, then send them as far away from the debris field as possible. If The Agathon finds a habitable world at the other end of that signal, then we unload and jump back to rendezvous with the stations and transfer remaining personnel to the ship.”

“Okay then,” replied Tosh, smirking. The pair both took deep breaths and stared in silence.

“What is Barrington’s take on all this?” asked Tosh.

“He’s keeping it hush for now. He has his hands full down there by the sounds of things, but he’s compiling a list of his key people for review. When we have more on numbers, we will make an announcement. Needless to say, we need to be prepared for some level of panic, hence my security is quietly beginning to beef up its presence.” Tosh sighed.

“Jesus Christ, what a nightmare. Well I volunteer to stay behind and take my chances on the base, if it’s all right with you. Drifting off into the nothingness in style and comfort has some appeal to me.” Young smiled. Tosh knew what Young was going to say to that.

“I wish I could, old friend, but you’re number one on my list to go. I need people who have lived and breathed this thing and you know the Monolith and its technology better than anyone else alive. Tyrell inclu
ded. Sorry.”

“Is that an order?” Tosh asked,
semi
-serious. Young gave him a smile that told him, in no uncertain terms, that it was.

“On a lighter note, Emerson tells me that had we more time we could excavate the Monolith and take it with us,” said Young.

“For fuck’s sake. That idiot has his head so far up his ass he’s seeing his own stars,” Tosh replied.

“Still the best engineer we have and I know there’s a soft spot in that big heart of yours for him.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tosh replied.

“Just assign him to waste disposal and put him to good use.”

“I may just do that, but in the meantime have a talk with him and see what he proposes.”

“You’re not serious!” Tosh laughed.

“Humour me,” Young replied. “It’s good for young men to have their ideas considered by top brass. It gets their creative juices flowing in other ways and boosts confidence and morale.”

“Ha,” Tosh quipped, “spoken like the CEOs of old. Manipulate the masses to serve thy bidding. Well played, sir.” Young nodded in a mock bowing motion. “I have another question, while we’re on the subject.”

“Fire ahead,” said Young.

“All due respect to your majesty, but who is in command of this suicide mission of yours?”

“What do you mean?” said Young.

“I mean, I know that military commanders, even those in the employment of Jycorp, past or present, have difficulty taking orders from suits. I can only assume that, as the commander of Agathon, Barrington will expect total autonomy from his crew without interference from ‘corporate’, so I ask again. With you aboard and with the chancellor a hair’s breadth away, who is in charge of the new world order?”

Young looked at Tosh and raised his eyebrows. “That,” he said slowly, “is a very good question!”

The Nexus

(Personal shuttle of Chancellor Sienna Clarke)

Time since
evacuation
- Three days

08:34 Martian Standard

Sienna Clarke stood at the entrance to the crew quarters and took a breath. Her head was spinning. She placed her hands on the surface of the door and steadied herself. The halls of the ship were quiet. She had noticed that her hands had been shaking uncontrollably. The enormity of what had happened was beginning to weigh heavily on her like a dark storm front. The air around her felt thick. She reached up and pressed the buzzer to the quarters and waited. She knew he would be up at this time of the morning. Greyson Kayne was an early riser like herself. The door slid open and the large security man stood at its entrance wearing a pair of black sweatpants. It was clear that he had been working out. His upper body was glistening with sweat.

“Good morning, Chancellor. I apologise. Am I late for duty?” Her eyes flicked upwards and met his.

“Not at all, Greyson. I was wandering the halls so to speak and wondered if you would like to join me for a coffee. I know how early you rise each day and I wanted to let the others rest.”

“Of course, Chancellor. Please come in while I change,” he said. She smiled and entered, moving past the large man and grazing her fingers against his. The cabin door hissed shut. The two stood staring at each other. In one swift and graceful motion, he raised his hand and slid it across her cheek and through her hair, firmly taking the back of her head and pulling her closer until their foreheads touched. She raised her lips and kissed him passionately. Her arms wrapped themselves tightly around his back as she embraced him. He took a step backwards and led her to the edge of the bed behind him. She gently pressed his shoulders downwards and seated him on the edge of the linen. The light casual clothing she was wearing slid off with ease and the pair collapsed into Grayson’s bed. She lost control and let herself melt into his body, forcing the turbulent thoughts out of her mind. She was strong. Not strong enough to overpower him, but enough to take complete control of the situation.

Within minutes, she had placed him gently inside her and the raw energy of the two locked in synchronous motion. She sat upright and placed her hands on the security man’s large chest, pressing her nails gently into his flesh. He gripped her hips and pulled her tightly towards his body with each thrust. She closed her eyes and let her mind empty of thoughts, letting the present moment take her over. They climaxed in a simultaneous release of energy and fell back exasperated. With sweat running down the chancellor’s cheeks she rose from the bed and dressed herself. She quietly made her way to the door and opened it. She looked back at Greyson, who was sprawled out across the bed and clearly trying to get his breath back. She smiled and nodded at him. She composed herself and pulled her damp hair behind her ears. She activated the door’s opening mechanism and slid out quietly.

“G
ood morning, Chancellor,” said James Ryder, as she made her way back to her quarters. Startled, she jumped.

“Good morning, James. You’re up early?” she replied, aware that her dishevelled look and Ryder’s knowing face meant she had been caught
red
-handed. Usually she would have minded. Not today.

“Indeed,” he said, “as are you. It is difficult to sleep with all that is going on and weeks in space can make anyone a little restless. Flight deck reports we have contact with Phobos. Jerome Young is holding for you.”
Perfect
! she thought.

“Can you have him patched through to my cabin, please?”

“Of course, Chancellor.” Ryder raised one of his eyebrows and looked at her, giving her the slightest of grins before turning towards the flight deck.
Oh go fuck yourself, she thought
. She gathered herself and made her way to her cabin. She cleaned herself up, brushed her hair and changed into a more formal outfit. The view screen on her desk blinked and indicated a transmission holding. She sat down, looked at the screen, and tried to stay calm. She tapped a button and the black screen was filled with Jerome Young’s face. She didn’t say anything.

“It is good to see you, Chancellor. Can you secure this channel, please? I would like to talk privately,” he said warmly. She suddenly began to feel her boundaries of
self
-control breaking down. She pressed the secure lockout command isolating the frequency and turned back to the screen.

“You had no right to make that decision without my knowledge. You do NOT get to pick and choose who lives or dies. I don’t care who you are, you pull that crap again and I will have you thrown out of an airlock!” Young did not respond and let the situation settle.

“Sienna,” he said,

“Chancellor Clark will do,” she rebuffed.

“Of course, Chancellor. I apologise. I understand your position fully but under the circumstances, I had no alternative. The purview of my office is to protect the planetary chain of command at all costs during an impossible situation.”

“It was NOT your call!” Her fury was mounting at the sound of his voice.

“All due respect,” he continued, “it WAS my call and I made it.” She could tell the levels of his tone were increasing to match hers and there was a danger of this degrading into a screaming match.

“Now, I am very sorry for the losses you have incurred, but the world just ended and I am fighting to try and save what is left. So, if you can direct that anger somewhere else for the time being and give me a status update, that would be great” She took a breath and calmed herself.